


Your Precious Thimble

by wir_sind_die_Jager



Series: Entranced [1]
Category: Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Age Difference, Edwardian Period, F/M, First Time, Foreplay, Loss of Virginity, May/December Relationship, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex Education, Shameless Smut, background casual bisexual James if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wir_sind_die_Jager/pseuds/wir_sind_die_Jager
Summary: Those hazel eyes were looking at him as if truly seeing him for the first time, and Hook was aghast to discover he mirrored her expression. For a brief moment, a fraction of incalculable time, they shared something. What...he dare not even think it. To name it would be utter lunacy.---The beginning of a very erotic adventure between Captain James Hook and his Wendy Darling. (part of a larger series)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RisqueSno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisqueSno/gifts).



> Hello! If you enjoyed 'The Frisky Plank' this is the origin story between these two. I alluded to it in the Firsky Plank and with the encouragement of RisqueSno, I decided to write it out properly and establish when this craziness all began. Thanks Sno-chan for reading and diving into the deep end of headcanon with me! <3 So, now this, along with the other fic, is officially part of a larger series I hope to gradually add to over time. This fic features a younger teen Wendy, so if that is not your jam, slide into The Frisky Plank (she is 17 there) and hang out while I write more adventures featuring the older Wendy. Thanks, everyone!

Captain James Hook sat in contemplative silence as he stared out towards the sea and his ship, the formidable _Jolly Roger_. He had left the confines of his cabin after much internal debate, the same debate he always had with himself when trying to pluck up the energy to change up the monotony of life in the Neverlands. The day after large battles with Peter Pan and his ragtag band of Lost Boys were always a let down; the adrenaline of yesterday is today’s plummeting spirits. It reminded Hook how pathetic he allowed his life to become. His options were limited, though. Set sail upon another one of the enchanted islands and take over a new territory, always a risk as he would have to usurp and kill whomever currently leads the trade. He could return to the world at large and adapt to whatever the ravages of time has left in its wake, but this was extremely tricky as Hook would have to give up the luxury of an impossibly long life and navigate certain inconveniences he is not as yet prepared to reckon with. Which left the only other option of maintaining his current state, that of a perpetual half existence, the villain of a mad enchanted boy’s preposterous imaginary play. True, he kept himself in business, so to speak, but opportunities for socializing with peers outside of his crew came too few and far between for his liking. He had to leave for the purposes of trade and peacekeeping, but he had to say to guard his territory. Every which way he looked at it, Hook felt trapped, and sometimes he simply needed to escape the confines of his wooden cage and have a think on a flattop boulder just on the inset of forest beyond the beach. Far enough away that his (mostly) bumbling but well meaning crew could not see him, but he could stare at his ship and remember her majesty again.

His thoughts would normally be trained on his usual meditations, but today was different. His mind kept replaying a moment during Pan’s latest foolhardy ambush on them the day before. Oddly enough, it had nothing to do with Pan, but the ever beguiling Wendy Darling. In all of his many, _many_ years observing Pan, James Hook had never known the Boy to return for a companion, let alone return multiple times. Is the secret to Miss Darling simply because she is a girl? Or is there more to it? Hook was not keen to unearth Pan’s reasons for fetching his little friend again and again, but on the logic Wendy herself employs to continue her visits to Neverland. They had not spoken much since their first encounter, but he did observe the sweet caresses of time with her every visit: she held herself a little higher, her movements were more thoughtful than before, and little hints that her childhood was in its winter and adolescence was in full blossom, from defining cheekbones, to curves shifting in other places. Then yesterday occurred. Pan was engaged elsewhere, fighting two men at a time, and suddenly it was just he and Wendy, not three yards apart with no one between them. Their swords in hand, the opportunity there, and yet neither of them made a move toward the other. They merely...stared. Those hazel eyes were looking at him as if seeing him for the first time, and Hook was aghast to discover he mirrored her expression. For a brief moment, a fraction of calculable time, they shared something. What...he dare not even think it. To name it would be utter lunacy.  

Feeling restless at these intrusive thoughts, Hook abandoned his spot and began to wander aimlessly through the forest jungle cultivated around the Neverpeak Mountain. His feet had taken him all over this enchanted island many times over; he let them align with his subconscious now and take him wherever they may. Overthinking was a sort of affliction with Hook, and today of all days, he had to let it all go for his own sanity. Slowly, deep into the foliage of temperate and tropical plant life, James became aware of the sound of water - specifically, water rapidly falling into a pool of some sorts. He was vaguely aware of a tarn somewhere around here, one of the handfuls of freshwater, but not large enough to house mermaids or other hostile creatures. Using his hook to rid himself of pesky low hanging elephant ear leaves, Hook suddenly found himself just on the edge of a small clearing beside a tarn that lead into a cave carved into the Neverpeak Mountain. 

Hook stopped in his tracks, too astonished by the sight before him to continue on. There was the girl herself, naked as the day she came into the world, her clothes haphazardly strewn around her as she made what the Captain could only assume to be the first attempt at self pleasuring. He was conflicted; he did not want to spy on her, and yet he could not take his eyes from her. She was like a Grecian nymph, glorious in her shameless nudity, as natural as the trees and flowers surrounding her. He wanted so desperately to capture her, possess her, and yet he knew it would be so very wrong to hold a creature so exquisite. He felt unworthy of the sight before him; a gift meant for someone else.  
  
He had resolved to turn and leave her be when he realized she was not quite achieving her goal. Her face was flushed but frustrated, her fingers clumsy and shaking, probably with moral fear all young people are indoctrinated with to keep them from pleasures of their own flesh. He should let her figure it out on her own...and yet Hook was utterly transfixed. Before he understood himself he was walking straight for her.

She did not see him until he was crouched down in front of her. With a gasp, Wendy could not even register humiliation before the blush across her cheeks betrayed her attraction. _So that look we exchanged now has a name._

Hook held out his hand.

"May I be of assistance?"

He expected a moment of contemplation on her part, but was delightfully surprised by the answer given not by her voice, but her body. Wendy's thighs parted, her hips raised off the ground and her hazel eyes pleading with him for mercy. Keeping his eyes trained on her, Hook wordlessly sent his fingers directly to the secret spot she kept missing. A staggering gasp followed before she began to gnaw on her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a delicious moan.

This will not due. He had to lock eyes with her, know without a shadow of a doubt that it was he whom she sought solace and sin from. Moreover, it was of equal importance to Hook that Wendy understood that her desirous feelings were reciprocated.  

"Open your eyes, little girl."

Wendy obeyed him instantly, sending a sharp shiver down his spine as he realized the power he was suddenly given. His hand worked her, giving her little clit all the attention and pleasure it deserved. He was taken aback by how quickly she was submerged within the throes of ecstasy; her palms flat on the ground behind her to hold her weight as her hips thrust of their own accord to the rhythm of his expert ministrations. He could tell by the pearls of sweat along her forehead and the funny little squeaking grunts she made she that she was wholly overwhelmed with sensation and undoubtedly inner conflict on the sudden strangeness life had taken both of them. He was compelled to tell her how well she was doing, that she is a very good girl indeed. Somewhere in the back of his head, he was cognizant that her ever increasing volume could draw the unwanted attention of any of the Neverland's denizens, but mercifully they were not bothered, not even when her hips suddenly came to a tense halt as her first orgasm overtook her.  
  
Finding her impossibly lovelier than ever, even as she sat hunched to one side panting for breath, Hook leaned forward and stole a kiss. He felt her shock in the way her body went rigid, but he kept his pressure gentle, seeking permission. Slowly but surely, she melted into the kiss, mimicking the tender and subtle movements of his lips. He brought her closer, scooping his arms around her, ever mindful of his iron appendage. It was only when she bumped against his chest that Wendy suddenly pulled back, bewildered as if under a spell, and broke free of his grip. Hook silently watched as she hastened to gather her clothes, slipping on her nightgown but foregoing her combinations. With her undergarments piled in her arms, Wendy was poised to leave when she stopped to look over her shoulder at him. Hook spied a rosy hue on her cheeks as she flashed him a shy, girlish grin before dashing off into the Neverwood.

 _Today took a rather strange turn of events,_ Hook thought to himself as he stood up. Something white in pink trim caught his eye. He had been accidentally crouched over her camisole. Considering it a token for his efforts, not to mention a consolation prize for being unable to have any favors returned, Hook scooped up the dainty object and tucked it away on the inside of his sleeve.

 

Determined to banish the incident as a one-off, Hook throws himself into his routines back at the _Jolly Roger_ , able to distract himself until the quiet of night falls upon Neverland. Alone with a cigar and the night breeze as he sits on the veranda off his cabin at the back of his ship, Hook is aggravated that his thoughts keep returning to the earlier incident. _Why her? She is nothing particularly special; she is hardly out of childhood..._ And yet his memory replays the indescribable moment when her eyes pop open at his command. Command is something he is used to, why should her obedience inspire him so particularly? And that stupid chemise! Why did he pick it up? He had discarded it as soon as he returned to the _Roger_ , carelessly tossing it onto his bed as if he would his own clothes. A decision to make at a more convenient moment was now a worrisome inconvenience. Tossing the butt of his cigar into the waters below, Hook hoists himself to his feet and heads inside, pouring himself a glass of port to help drown the troubling feeling that he is in for a particularly unsettling night of unfettered baser thoughts and bright hazel eyes.

 

* * *

 

As expected, Hook did not find sleep easily, and by the time the sun was high in the sky the next day, Smee was rousing him, blithering on about some sort of meeting with the Tribe Elders about trade and sales profits. After nearly chomping off the tip of Smee’s fingers due to a lack of hook, Smee resorted to a quick splash of ice cold sea water across his captain’s face, sure to stand far enough away so he was not within punching range as Hook shouted and flailed to full consciousness.

After dragging himself along, with Smee in tow for communication assistance, the Captain made it just in time to the village for their meeting. Their relationship was tenuous at best, and his only weapon permitted was a sword - hook notwithstanding - but under zero circumstances was he to enter the village with anyone but Smee. Their own young people were adapting to the King’s language, though at their leisure, so it was a relief to have Smee there to take notes and express nuanced formalities. Just when the meeting seemed to be taking too long, it finally concluded and Hook was only too eager to leave.  

“Go on ahead,” Captain Hook ordered his bosun as they exited the village.

“Cap'n?” Smee inquired.

“I’ll be along later, I want to look over this contract and have a moment to hear myself think.”

Smee nodded and continued onward.

As soon as he was sure Smee had followed his orders, Hook let instinct take over and separated from the main path from village to shore. Perhaps he would detour to the tarn in the glen to see if Miss Darling was there...searching for her chemise. Surely she would be missing it. Besides which, it was a particularly humid day in the jungle forest of Neverland; he had gone most informally to the village, sans hat and coat, due to the heat, and Hook fancied a quiet moment by the water regardless if Miss Darling showed or not.

Finding himself alone, and quick to banish all emotions of disappointment, Hook removed his footwear and sat at the edge of the pool, a rare moment of respite. His thoughts wandered back to Wendy and the chemise tucked inside his vest. He could at least be a gentleman and launder her garment. After making a quick job of it and splaying the small garment atop a sun bathed rock to dry, Hook began to skim over the makeshift contract with the Tribe Elders when he heard a gentle rustling from the other side of the tarn. He raised his eyes just as Wendy Darling made her presence known, just as surprised to see him as he was _not_ surprised in to see her. They said nothing, no pleasantries exchanged as Wendy slowly made her way to his side, her hazel eyes warily trained on his piercing blue. She kept her distance, but Hook got the distinct impression she was studying him, trying to work something out, either about him or her next plan of action. Running his eyes down her petite form, his mouth inadvertently began to water as he noted her bare chest under the nightgown, breasts still in development but undoubtedly present. Her eyes darted around, as if she finally decided he was not going to pounce on her the moment she took her eyes off of him.

“Looking for something, my dear?”

She jerked her head once to affirm his inquiry. He shook his head. _So it is to be this way is it?_

“The garment you are searching for is drying on the rock beyond. It was...soiled when I came upon it.” He cleared his throat, thankful she was too much of a child to understand double entendres...yet. “Not that it should make a difference, given the company you keep.” He gave a violent start as he realized she was looming close to him, close enough to spy the outline of her tiny pert nipples under her nightgown, the humidity causing the cotton to cling to her skin. He quickly elevated his eyes to hold her gaze, refusing to make the first move on principle.  
  
“What can I do for you, Miss Darling?” he asks in his most gentlemanly manner. She reminded him of a doe: wide-eyed, skittish, a graceful strength in the guise of fragility. He kept perfectly still as she placed a firm hand against his shoulder, bracing herself as she began to incline forward. Leveling his eyes in anticipation of what he surmised her plan of action to be, to his immense entertainment, he felt pressure not on his lips, but the corner of his mouth; sweet, soft, undisciplined. He bit his tongue, stifling his humor as he did not wish to embarrass her. She was a very brave little girl, to attempt to kiss a cold-bloodied pirate such as he. She pulled back slightly, her eyes downcast and a rosy hue on her cheeks. He thought quickly, before she took flight.

“Shall I kiss you, pet?” he asked kindly. At her nod, he took the initiative, applying feather light pressure against her impossibly supple lips. Once she relaxed, he slipped his right arm around her middle and tipped the blunt side of his hook against the small of her back, effectively pushing her closer to deepen their kiss. She adapted and mimicked him with eerie precision, her small hands at the open collar of his linen shirt, skin on skin. Her weight leaned on him fully, trusting and eager. Her mouth permitted entrance to his inquiring tongue, and after a moment or two analyzing his actions, she mirrored him flawlessly. They abruptly broke, breathless, chests heaving.

“May I touch you, Wendy?” She nodded without hesitation, prompting him to lift the hem of her nightgown. “Remove this.”

She did so without the bat of a long, curling eyelash and Hook felt that thrill of command again. As soon as her plump little breasts were naked at his eye level he pulled her closer and took a small, pink nipple into his mouth. Her cry of surprise fueled him, his intact hand taking hold of her other breast to knead and massage, both nipples hardening under his attention. He became aware of a gentle swaying motion as she leaned to and fro, whimpering with pleasure.

“I want, I want-” she whined under her bresth.

“Yes, girl,” he snarled between animalistic nips and soothing kisses on her sweet flesh, “tell me what you want. Anything, and it is yours.”

The scarlet stamp of bashfulness across her cheeks was lovelier than the reddest rose as she said with great difficulty, “I-I want you to touch me like yesterday.”

With her consent intact, he whipped her around in his arms and folded her back into his lap, cradling her with his mutilated arm, ever mindful of how to appropriately angle his weaponized appendage. Wendy barely had time to register what happened before he was whipping off her drawers in one fluid motion, discarding them with her forgotten nightgown. He smirked at the juxtaposition she presented before him: squirming and red with shyness, but worked up and eager for more. He takes a cursory swipe between her legs, amused to find her quite wet already, and begins to set a steady pace before wicked inspiration strikes and he ceases. Wendy moans the loss but he silences her with a stern look.

“How will you ever do without my assistance once you return home, Miss Darling?” She wisely surmises this is not a question she is meant to answer. “You must learn self-reliance, my girl.”

“Yes, but,” Wendy begins as he takes hold of one of her hands from his collar and brings it down between her parted thighs.

“I know, you tried,” he interrupts, his voice honeyed to hide the sinister edge. “All you need is a helping hand.” With his hand atop hers, Hook guides her to the area she most craves to master, right at the apex of her pleasure. With the skill of a man experienced in the erotic arts, Hook patiently directs his pupil on the finer points of pleasuring oneself, from rhythm to pressure, to the position of her fingers.

“Well done, little girl,” he praises when she rolls her head to the side and whimpers into his shirt, having just successfully found the source of her stimulation. She was initially limp in his hand, but as her desire built, and perhaps an overachieving schoolgirl’s need to master a task, Wendy took more and more control until her shallow breath matched that of the fervent tempo of her self exploration. She was very close by the time Hook slowly removed his hand, sneaking a finger just below to rub up and down the inner folds of her wet sex. His eyes had never feasted on anything more tantalizing than this girl in his arm, her bouncing little breasts, the other hand clinging to his open shirt collar, her eyes wet with tears of effort and desperate abandon.

“You have it, little girl,” he cooed encouragingly. “You are doing so well, keep going.”

Her hips were rising of their own accord and it took a moment for him to catch their rhythm before he was able to insert his finger, probing her just at the right moment when she shattered, a full-throated cry of ecstasy echoing over the water before she went boneless in his arms, warm and spent.

He was nuzzling her, kissing her all over again. She is tired, but responsive, still holding fast to his linen shirt. Beyond aware of the growing discomfort straining against the laces of his ever tightening leather breeches, Hook breaks away from her to adjust her position in his lap, grimacing as her weight shifts in a most disagreeable way.

"Are you well, sir?" Wendy asks with all of the innocence of her age.

"It is not a matter of wellness, Wendy," he answers with a hollow laugh, unsure how to broach this topic with her. "Men...I, that is to say, we, have similar needs." It was his turn to look at her, embarrassed but pointedly, praying she caught on. Thankfully her orgasm did nothing to dim her brightness, and slowly but surely he spied her working out the clues.

"Surely, if it is as vexing a feeling as I feel, you must alleviate yourself of this burden."

He is positively agog with her equally mature and naive stance on this matter. _What a predicament I find myself in,_ Hook thinks to himself.

"You know not what you say," he mumbles, humbled by her generosity. "I can bide my patience."  
  
"No," she insists petulantly. "It would be very unfair to deny you."

Hook sighs, logic vacating him along with the ability to argue with her as his blood has been redirected to a far more southern region of his body.

"Very well." He shifts her to one knee as his hand unties the laces on his breeches. He senses her shuffling about in his grip, vaguely hoping in the back of his head that she does not accidentally nick or impale herself on the hook he has thoughtfully kept pointed away from her. It is not until he has freed his cock, groaning with relief, that he feels her petal soft lips on his temple. Wendy has somehow turned around in his grip, her hands around his neck as her knees spread for even weight distribution, almost straddling him, but leaving room for him to properly maneuver himself between their bodies.

"Remove my shirt," he orders her, kissing her cheek, already void of childish roundness and very much on its way to a lean womanly face. She does as she is told, but in the heat of their amour, he had failed to forewarn her about one insignificant detail - that is, until she gasped with a sharp pull back. He mirrored her start, waiting, tensely poised, watching her examine the intricate harness strapped on his right arm and shoulder. Scowling at his absent-mindedness, Hook admonished himself internally. _I was so distracted by her charms that I have utterly forgotten myself._ Wendy's intense expression did nothing to betray her thoughts and feelings, leaving James feeling trapped and ill-at-ease. He tried to squelch the feeling. _What do I care of a child's opinion on the necessities of my life?_ Still, he could not bring himself to do anything other than wait for her inevitable opinion. 

"Ingenious," Wendy breathed at last, running her fingertips over the leather straps. Hook exhaled, loathing the flopping sensation he felt in his stomach when she turned that wide smile on him. "How extraordinarily clever, sir." She emitted a soft cry of surprise as he pulled her in for a crushing kiss, releasing her as abruptly as he had pulled her in. Breathless, she gave him a dazed albeit quizzical grin before continuing her task. Once they are chest to chest, she is kissing his forehead, cheeks, nose and lips. He is delightfully surprised that she offers her tongue, accepting it hungrily before leaning down to taste her breasts again. Her hands are clasped behind his neck as she arches her back in an offering of her developing bosom, her shuddering gasps and moans music to his ears.

"Wendy, Wendy," he breathes against her smooth and flawless skin. "You are such a clever girl, so good."

On an even baser level than he is currently operating on, Hook wishes she could participate more. If this folly were to continue, though, so is her tutelage. The notion titillated him as he fervidly alleviated himself of the built up passion their encounter caused him. Creeping closer to the edge, Hook buries his face in her neck, kissing her as he mutters vulgarities against her skin.

"Oh, Wendy, I want to fuck you so hard my sweetness, I want to come deep inside you, my good girl."

He catches the gasp on her lips just before he stiffens and rides out the spasms as his cock spurts and coats their stomachs. Wendy looks too bewildered to question it, even as he gently deposits her next to him and peels off the rest of his clothes. He hears a tiny squeak, catching her looking away just as he sheds himself of his breeches. Chuckling to himself as he shakes his head at her silly notions of propriety, James then scoops her into his arms and carefully makes his way into the lukewarm tarn. Hook wades out to the deepest end near the mouth of the cave where the water is just at his shoulders before unceremoniously depositing her. Laughing as she squeals in indignation, Hook is not quick enough to slide away before she is sending a barrage of water directly at his face.

"You, sir, are ever the villain!" Wendy shouts, splashing him as she kicks behind her to stay afloat.

"Was there ever any doubt in your precious head, Miss Darling?" He challenged, delighting in the way she balled up her small hands into endearing little fists, shaking them at him.

"Ooooh, I will have my revenge, Captain Hook!"  
  
"Will you indeed?" he says haughtily. "I cannot imagine how, considering you cannot take flight in water."

They spend the better part of half an hour chasing one another in the water, with no real game set but to splash, dunk, or otherwise catch the opponent. At some point he is able to make her turned so around that he successfully confuses her, going under the water just behind her. He hears the confusion in her voice just as he lurks a few feet away.

"Captain…?"

She squeals with surprise as he emerges from deeper waters, pulling her against his chest and floating back towards the inner sanctum of the cave as she laughs off her fright. Exhausted from their play, Hook leans against the edge of the pool and bends to kiss the top of her head, her ear, cheek. She closes her eyes, and he is suddenly struck how very at ease he is with her. The thought is sobering, not one he wishes to work out in that moment, instead slipping his left hand down to worry her clit again.

"Oh!" She cries in surprise, tilting her head back against his wet chest. "Yes, please," she begs, delicious words for his ears and ego.

"Yes, please, what?" He taunts.

"Yes, please, more, touch me more, please."  
  
He keeps one fingertip trained on her nodule while another finger inserts itself just below, probing the promising tightness. Her hips involuntarily rise and meet the rhythmic inquiry of his finger. For half a moment, James considered taking her then and there. With her inexperience though the environment was less than ideal. He would bide his time, he decided, and enjoy what is pleasurable for her in this moment.  
  
Unable to achieve the intensity he desired her to experience, Hook removes from her and readjusts with her back braced against the embankment, hooked arm carefully around her back and knee raised to support her bottom before inserting his finger again, now able to probe with true depth. She appeared grateful for the shift, meeting his thrusts with her own slim hips and gasping cries.

"Tell me why you enjoy this." He asks against her ear.  
  
"It...it feels so good," she confesses. 

"Is this to your liking, treasure?" He whispers, inserting another finger to add to the first.

"Yes," she answers, hand diving down to meet the thumb at her clit, her earlier apprehension all but forgotten. "Just please don't stop here."

"Never," he promises, kissing her to seal the vow.

She dictates the pace on her clit, but whether her gyrating hips or his two fingers set the feverish pace of his deep penetration remains unknown, only that they are there in this moment together, his mouth clamped hard on her right nipple, her back arching from the rocky embankment as her cries echoing in the cavern behind them. Wendy is soon driving them home, her face set in concentration as she gasps, 'Yes, please, I want it, yes, I want - I need -"  
  
Releasing her nipple, he straightens his back to loom over her, peering down into her lovely hazel eyes. "You have but to ask, my lovely girl. Whatever you desire, Wendy."

"I want you!" She gasped, her hips suddenly halting, rising up as she rode another tidal wave of pleasure. He nearly missed it; utterly blindsided by her declaration. She is slow to recover from her orgasmic rush, bliss and fatigue in her eyes as she rests against him. His hand idly runs through her damp tresses, nails lightly scraping against her shoulders as he wills all thoughts to shift their focus on anything other than what the girl said.

A meek little cough pulls him out of his reviere.

"I, uhm, must go. Peter and the Lost Boys are waiting for me."

"Of course," he murmurs, wading over to the shallow end so she may hoist herself up onto land and gather her belongings.

He follows shortly and together yet utterly separately they silently dress. After Wendy puts the finishing touches on her two plaits, she turns to him and stares almost expectedly. He retains an air of formal indifference, his hand and hook behind his back as he clears his throat and waits for her to either dash off or bid him farewell.

“Captain," she asks with a determined stiffness as she holds her head high, "if I were to return tomorrow near this time would you perhaps be nearby?”  
  
Admiring her cheek as a quick smirk quirked at the side of his mouth, Hook gave her a quick nod. “I think that would be quite likely.”

She mirrors the nod, the gesture of a lady were she to pass a family acquaintance in the street, before abruptly turning about face and marching off back towards the direction from whence she arrived. Hook's smirk broadened as he watched her depart.  
  
_If my little Wendy Darling wishes to play the growing up game, then play we shall._  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three

Now that he was anticipating their rendezvous, Hook could better prepare for time spent away from the _Jolly Roger_. He had Smee pack him a rucksack of fruit, bread, cheese, and port. A vain man with little desire to expose his clothes to the will of mother nature, or wishing to mar Wendy's precious skin, Hook rolled up a throw blanket and stuffed it along with his other goods before setting out.   
  
James spies Wendy through the bushes as he approaches the glen, laying on her stomach in her combinations, bare feet idly swaying in the air as she heavily concentrates on a book open on the ground. It takes a few moments of quiet to hear she is actually speaking to herself in French. She struggles with the sentence, frustrated determination on her face. Her hair is plaited over one shoulder, and she unconsciously fiddles with the end as she sounds out her vocabulary.

“What are you doing, Miss Darling?” Hook asks as he tromps through the shrubbery to join her. She only briefly looks up at him before returning to her book.

“I will fall behind if I am not careful to keep up with my studies.”  
  
He gently nudges her with the tip of his boot to raise up onto her knees so that he can hand her the blanket to spread out. She does so, then promptly returns to her book. Joining her, he does not disturb her concentration, but cannot help feeling slightly put out.

“What do girls study in school, anyway?” He inquires, drawing a knee up to rest his chin on as he watches her. “I thought it all sewing and watercolors.”  
  
Wendy scoffs at him and shakes her head. “We also learn reading, writing, geography, arithmetic, history, and,” she taps her book. “French. I am partial to literature, though, and sometimes find myself slacking in other subjects. So when Peter came to fetch me, I grabbed my French book from last term.”  
  
“He still fetches you, then?”  
  
“Yes, why shouldn’t he?” Wendy looked up, perplexed.

“Well, there will come a day when he will not.” He held his palm up as he saw her ready to protest. “I do not say this to be cruel, Wendy. Not this time. I say this as...a friendly warning.”

Wendy seemed to let the subject drop along with her eyes, back towards her book. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I am being sent away to school.”

“When you return to London?”  
  
“Yes. It is the summer holidays back home.”  
  
“Do you mean to tell me that your parents actually know where you are?” He asked, incredulous.  
  
Sighing as she closes her book and sets it aside, Wendy rolls onto her side and rests her head in her palm. “Mother knows. Father is in denial, as ever. He tells those inquiring about me that I am traveling with an old aunt. For culture and nature painting.”  
  
“Aha!” Hook says as he lays on his back. “Watercolors. I knew it.”  
  
She scoots slightly closer to him before asking, “Did you attend school, sir?”  
  
“I most certainly did,” he replies. “England’s finest.”  
  
“Then…” Wendy knitted her brows. He looked over at her, struggling internally. “Then why did you not...I mean, that is to say, how…”

“...why did I not fall into line with a respectable position?” He finished for her. She nods. “That is a very intelligent question, Wendy, but it is not a question for which I have a satisfactory answer. There are many reasons, the most prominent of which being that I simply did not want an ordinary life. Much as yourself.” She smiles at his words, but says nothing in reply. "What do you tell Pan and his cohorts to escape their ever obsessive attentions?"

"I tell them it is time for a bath," Wendy reveals with a giggle. "They never seem keen on cleanliness, so they are only too eager to leave me be."  
  
“You are a clever girl,” he remarks with an impressed raise of his brows. “Your cleverness is wasted on them.”

Wendy rolls on her back, mimicking his position, but her body poised the opposite way.

“Why, Captain Hook, is that a _sincere_ invitation to piracy this time?”  
  
He scoffs. “Heavens, no, child. You would have to master the sword before I would even conceive of allowing you into my highly esteemed crew.”  
  
She shifts her head to the side to stare at him, a most offended expression on her face. “I can manage a sword just fine, thank you very much!”

“Manage is not the same as master,” he retorted. “You wave it around and lunge, but your technique is artless and undisciplined.” She is suspiciously quiet and he looks over at her, smirking as he spies the frustration and guilt on her face. Hook is suddenly struck by a bolt of humility as he adds waspishly, “You require a superior teacher than Pan. I suppose I can spare time to instruct you on proper swordsmanship.”

“Would you?” Wendy gasps happily, all brightness and smiles with her full rosy pink lips. That his offer is the source of her cheer gives him an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. Her smile is all he can see when he replies.

“Of course.” He quickly clears his throat as her cheeks glow with unabashed joy. “Not today, mind you. Another day.”

She seems to understand her emotions are overflowing at an uncomfortable quantity and quickly composes herself, albeit not very well as she cannot help a lingering grin through her put on voice: “Tomorrow, perhaps?”

 _So there is to be a tomorrow even before today,_ James ruminates. _How interesting indeed._

"If it pleases you," he confirms with a stiff nod. _Or rather, if I should please you today._

“How do you get away from the Jolly Roger? Wendy inquires. “Surely you have responsibilities, obligations.”

“I am the Captain,” he reminds her simply. “I do whatever I please.”

“Is that so!” Wendy cries as she abruptly sits up and knelt directly beside him.  
  
“It is.”

“How terribly wonderful it must be to be Captain James Hook.”

He smirks at her, his eyes narrowing at her taunts.

“Careful Miss Darling, or else I will accuse you of sarcasm. A most grotesque form of humor; the language of the devil.”

“I have heard you employ the use of sarcasm many a time, sir,” she sniffs haughtily.

He quirks a brow. “Do you not surmise me to be quite devilish?”

He was surprised that Wendy lost all traces of playful banter from her expression, staring at him with those unfathomable hazel eyes.

“No,” she replied, hardly above a whisper. “I do not.”

They met one another as he rose and she descended, their lips locking on tightly, her arms sliding around his neck as she maneuvered herself seamlessly into his lap. His hand kept to the small of her back, holding her steady as he rose to a sitting position. He pulled back suddenly, staring at her swollen lips and flushed cheeks through leveled eyes. _Beautiful._ Slowly, he returned to kissing her, guiding her to a reduced, languid pace, teaching her how to savor each kiss. As ever, his pupil was bright and displayed her newfound skill with the utmost precision. He wanted to take his time with her, challenging though that might be with her inherent youthful impatience egging him on to quicker gratification. His intact hand slipped one cotton strap of her chemise off her shoulder, his hook gently slipped down the other. Those delicious breasts were calling to him; though they were still in development, they retained a bit of heft. Comprehending his desire, Wendy removed her chemise, taking a cue from his deliberate pacing and slowing her own efforts. James took hold of one of her breasts, massaging and playing with the nipple. Tilting her head back ever so slightly, Wendy moaned in appreciation of his effort.

"Take hold of your other breast," he ordered in a low voice. She did as he bid of her, mirroring his technique. How James did love to watch her touch herself, exploring her body for their mutual pleasure. Her head was tipped slightly forward now, watching his hand and her own as they brought her nipples to full erectness. Leaning forward he took the nipple in his own hand into his mouth, biting, tugging, sucking in earnest as Wendy whimpered, "Oh-oh-oh, yes, oh, oh."  
  
He switched, clamping down on the nipple she eagerly fed to him. His hand left her breast to travel southward, tugging at her drawers until Wendy maneuvered herself to shimmy them off her hips until he could slip them down her petite, lean legs and discard them. Abandoning her breasts to sit tall again, Hook looks down and contemplates the young lady before him. Flushed and trembling from need, Wendy’s body is a dream come true in terms of response; he need not have to check between her legs to know she is already slick and desperate for relief. A truly wicked idea seizes his imagination, and with a curling smile, the Captain leans forward to pull her against his chest in a deep kiss. Wendy goes onto her knees to match his height sitting, precisely what he anticipated her to do as he slowly leans backward, lying back with her atop him as they kiss again and again. When they break and she finds herself above him, Wendy’s shyness finds her again as she curls herself against his chest and tucks her head under his chin. He allows the cuddle for a few moments, holding tight to her in a comforting embrace before giving her a light pat on her rump.

“Up on your knees, precious.”

Scooting off of him, Wendy kneels directly next to him. His left hand gingerly hoists one leg up, so that she nearly topples but holds herself steady with a hand upon the blanket, shock on her face as he lies between her parted knees and hooks his arms around them to guide her body. Her squeal of surprise is music to his ears as he buries his tongue deep in her wet cavern. She tastes of youth and wildflowers and sunshine and he cannot get enough, using all of the skills a man of his age and experience have acquired throughout the inhuman amount of years he has been on this earth. His grip is tight as her body hiccups, overstimulated and adapting to new sensations. Even between her thighs, he knows this is the loudest she has been thus far in their little escapade. He had forgotten how empowering the feeling is to not only give a woman pleasure, but to debauch a newly appointed disciple of Eros.  
  
He briefly tenses as he feels her dainty hand upon his chest, but quickly surmises from the tilting of her hips that she has arched back and used him for support. He slackens his grip around her thighs as she gains enough control of her body to develop a rhythmic gyration in response to his most effective attention, although anytime his tongue or even the very gentlest graze of his teeth along her clitoris sends her into a spasm from head to toe. She is not long off; her hips quicken as the hitch in her rapid breath effect her ability to pause between incoherent clamor.

“Ah, ah, yesyesyes, please, please, more, pleasemoreJamespleasemore, yes!”  
  
Electrified by the sound of his given name spilling unbidden from her precious lips, Hook focuses solely on her sweetest spot, delivering her to the absolution she so desperately sought. Her body rocketed upward, causing him to tighten his hold and force her to ride out the intensity of her orgasm. Once she eventually eased back into steady patterns of breath and her weight was not entirely focused at the center of his chest, Hook slackened his grip, appreciating her prompt separation so that he was able to sit up, gather her close against him and caress her shoulder down her back. They remain in a warm, comforting silence with James idly petting her.

“So…” he begins. “Am I James to you now?”

“What?” She gasps, looking up at him in bewilderment.

“You called me by my given name.”

The redness that set her cheeks aflame could rival the deepest hue of rose.

“Oh. I see you do not recall.” He grins wickedly down at her.

“I...have been calling you by your Christian name…” she confesses, looking everywhere but directly at him as she murmurs, “to myself.”  
  
He laughs at her embarrassment, and he is promptly chastised when she flinches at his humor. Sighing and rolling his eyes to himself, Hook pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head.

“I am pleased you did.”  
  
This seems to be the charm, for she relaxes against him.  
  
Unable to help himself and allow her a peaceful moment, he shortly teases, “I think you enjoyed that, pet.”  
  
“You are terribly crass today, Captain.”  
  
“Back to Captain, are we?” A growl emanates from the back of her throat, causing him to stifle further laughter. Looking around for a distraction lest he continue to taunt her and end their rendezvous prematurely, Hook spies the rucksack at the corner of the blanket. “Ah. Here. Fetch that for me, my dear.” He motions to the old leather bag. She indecently crawls over to it, most unbecoming for a young lady, and he is positively alive for it; his eyes light up as he watches her on all fours. It is a position he could get used to all too easily. As she turns back, he quickly looks away, fighting the surge of arousal coursing through his veins. When she returns with the rucksack, he begins to unpack the edibles as well as the bottle of port. “Last I offered you a libation you refused on the basis that you were, in your ever so humble words, a little girl. Do you still stand by that assessment?”

“No, but I will not partake just the same,” Wendy said. He shrugs and sets the bottle aside for the moment. After laying out their spread, James reclines on his right side, grabbing a few grapes from their vine when notices Wendy retrieving her chemise.  
  
“What are you doing?” He asks casually. She looks over her shoulder at him and holds up the chemise as if the answer ought to be obvious. “No. I like you are you are.”

Shock registers on her face. “Pardon?”

“I said leave it be,” he repeats calmly but firmly. “I want to feast on you with my eyes like my stomach feasts on this food. Now, come.” He pats the space directly in front of him, pleased that Wendy puts up no further protest as she follows suit, returning to lean against her back his chest and tuck her legs at her side. He proceeds to feed her; a grape here, a strawberry there, a nibble of cheese; all of it into her sweet Cupid’s bow. They passed the time this way in relative quiet as Hook studied her; the way she so easily slipped into deep thought, how such an expressive face could attain such pensiveness. As always, she was perfectly exquisite. He told her as much when he paused to pinch her nipple, causing her to knit her brow in pain but moan a little despite herself. He merely smirked, refusing to pursue any further course of action in that moment.

"Tell me, my dear, are you still an active storyteller?"

"Yes," she replied, surprised by the question. "I have, up until I left for Neverland, been outlining a new story based on the harrowing adventures of Red Riding Hood."

"Isn't that the one with a basket of baked goods and a rather deviously opportunistic wolf?"  
  
Wendy tilted her head in thought, playing with the ends of her plait as she mused, "I am not confident as of yet on the wolf's true intentions. I think there may be more to him than even he himself knows."

"I am sure your heroine Red will be more than clever enough to suss out the old rogue."

"Yes," Wendy eagerly agreed. "Oh, I do hope I can commit it to my journal before I start a new school." A dark look passed over her face as she suddenly leaned forward and snatched a bunch of grapes. "Father has been positively cruel about staying ahead of my lessons. He does not want his money to go to waste and have me be sent home from my new school because I cannot keep up." Popping grapes into her mouth to chew angrily, Wendy stews in her inner frustrations before she finally looked at him and protested, "Why am I the only one without clothes? That seems rather unfair."

It was Hook's turn to be surprised. "Do you wish for me to equalize the balance?"

Wendy seemed to immediately regret her words as the implication of his offer quickly sank in. A girlish giggle escaped her lips before she leaned over to pop a grape into his mouth. He accepted and chewed along, waiting patiently for any further response. She played this coy game with him for some time, feeding him as he had fed her. He was not in the habit of forcing women to follow through with any sort of action they were not prepared to follow through with, and so Hook enjoyed the delightful, albeit bashful game Wendy played with him. He drank in her girlish titters and supped on the feather light touches her fingers lingered at his mouth. When at last she had no more grapes with which to feed him, Wendy scooted as close she dared to tentatively put out one hand at the collar of his loose linen shirt. He took hold of it, her soft youthful skin between his calloused hand and chest as he held her open and inquisitive gaze.  

"There is so much I want to explore with you, teach you, Wendy."

"Such as?"

He shook his head with a small smirk. "Things which are all but impossible to describe. One must simply commit to unfolding them in the heat of the moment."  
  
"Will I...will they be enjoyable?"

"Has everything thus far been enjoyable?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

Her blush returned as she nodded. Before he could assure her anymore, she darted forward and kissed him. It was not the well intended missed target of yesterday, but the remarkable display of a student who wished to demonstrate their new found knowledge. When she broke their kiss Wendy pressed her forehead against his, their eyes boring into one another as he cups her cheek and rubs her earlobe between his fingers.  
  
"Whatever pantomime we play with Pan, when it is you and I and we leave the world behind, I will never force you into anything abhorrent to you. I may make you walk the plank, but I will give you the power to swim to shore." He sealed his promise with a kiss.  
  
Her hands were suddenly blindly at his collar, tugging and exploring in a nervous novice fashion. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Hook patiently waited as she rose to her knees to match his sitting height before continuing to loosen his shirt, pausing often to explore; running her hands down his muscle hardened torso. Closing his eyes lest he become overwhelmed, James instead focused on steadying his rapidly shallow breath and the sensation of her hands on him, only vaguely aware of the fabric sliding off his skin before a soft hand took hold of his and deftly guided him to a familiar warmth. He was painstakingly slow, in part to match her own tentative explorations, relishing the quiet moan reverberating when she pressed her lips to the hollow of his neck. Satin kisses across his heart, scars, pectorals, hands scraping down his abdomen, stopping just short of his breeches. Holding zero expectations, Hook stopped just short of a gasp as she surprised him with fingertips peeping just on the inside of his breeches.

"Ah!" She squeaked as he rewarded her boldness with applied pressure to her clitoris. Her vengeance was swift as her lips were on his and a small hand brutally tugged at the lacing of his breeches. His eyes flew open, and he nipped her bottom lip, causing his little lover just enough astonishment that he was able to withdraw from within her and guide her hand over the bulge cruelly pressing against his breeches. Their fingers intertwined as together they loosened the laces, Wendy pressing herself so close he could feel the warmth from her body radiating against his skin. Realizing he needed to readjust their positions for better access to their bodies, James pulls back from her and eases Wendy to his side, where he cautiously curls his right arm around her, always mindful to keep the fatal end of his hook away from her. Straightening out his legs next to her pale shorter limbs, James then eases them back together along the length of the blanket. Rolling onto his elbow, James looks down at her.

"Draw your knees up."

She does as she is bid, splaying them as if she is aware of his intent. He smirks at her intuition before rewarding her with a few rubs between her legs. Her hand is on him again, diving under the band of his now loosened breeches and greedily making a blind grab for him. His eyes nearly watered from her careless roughness.

"Brimstone and gall, girl, have mercy! Men are not designed with the versatility as the fairer sex."

Wincing, he took hold of her uneducated hand and instructed it on the intricacies of handling his manhood, from molding her grip to applying just the correct amount of pressure. She was unsurprisingly nervous, but enticingly curious, worrying her bottom lip as she allowed him to guide her in a steady rhythm. He spied her lonely little sex and for the first time since they began their tryst, James mourned the loss of his right hand and his inability to multitask. Relying on her studious nature to take control, Hook cautiously extracted his hand and placed it back where he knew she longed for him.

"Oh!" She cried sharply, her hips rising off the ground as she gave his cock a thrilling squeeze. "Why does it feel so good?"

"It just does my little pet," he murmured, leaning down to capture her eager lips as he simultaneously slipped his middle finger inside her wet sex. He was delighted that she eagerly accepted the digit, especially because he kept his thumb woking her clit. As she became wetter, he slipped another finger inside, causing her chest to heave and her hips to jut downward. Her hand on his cock must surely be cramping at this angle, but she stayed the course, never wavering in pace or pressure. He kissed her lips, nose, temple, forehead, and ear, pausing to murmur sweet praises.  

"Yes, that's it, you're doing marvelously, my good girl. Go faster." He staggered as she executed his command perfectly, and whether intentional or not, circled the head of his cock with her thumb. He rewarded her with the rapid thrusts of his fingers, causing her to throw her head back and moan.

"Do you enjoy this, little girl?"

"Yes," she whimpers. He pinches her clit, eliciting a gasp from her.

"What was that? I am afraid I cannot hear you."

"Yes!" She cried.  

Abruptly, Hook rose to his knees, gently nudging her down on her back as she attempted to rise in protest at the sudden loss of his fingers. After quickly shimmying his breeches down his hips, he took hold of her hand again to reclaim its task while he made good and returned to her pleading sex. This time, it was she who rewarded him as her hand slid down his hardened length and just beyond, causing a great electric shock to ripple down his spine. She must have sensed his increase in pleasure, for her small but deft hand combined and repeated all of her motions; a swirl at the head, a firm slide down the girth of his cock to dissolve in a quick and gentle caress of his scrotum. Leaning down as she craned her neck, panting in one another's open mouths, desperate and so close to their mutual release.

"Oh James, oh James, oh James-!"

"If I cannot fuck and fill your sweet maiden cunt, I am going to come all over you. Now, look at me, Wendy, and come for me."

With a cry of ecstasy ripping from her throat, Wendy obliged him, prompting his own quaking orgasm, his liquid completion spilling onto her breasts and chest. Her arms were suddenly winding around his neck, pulling him downward as she brazenly kissed him open mouthed, capturing his tongue and shocking him further. Easing into the embrace as he adjusted his position so that his full weight was not crushing her, Hook reached up with his hand and stroked the top of her head.  
  
“You are a most expeditious pupil, Wendy Darling,” James remarked breathlessly when she released him. In response, she gave him the sweetest little blush and smile, her audacity cleverly hidden behind a mask of innocence.

“A pupil is only as good as her teacher,” Wendy replied. He merely raised his brows at that.

“There is something to be said for experience, I shall grant you that,” he says humbly, hoisting himself off of her.

They bathed and dressed relatively quickly, and when it was time for her to part, Wendy turned to him, book clutched to her chest with one arm while the other hand fiddled with her plait.

"Now, do not forget you are to teach me proper swordsmanship tomorrow, Captain."

"Aye-aye, Miss Darling," he said with a mock salute before taking his leave.

* * *

 

 _What am I doing with Wendy Darling?_  
  
Hook asked himself as he watched the sun set over Neverland that evening. _Moreover, what is Wendy Darling doing to me?_ Now there is a disturbing thought indeed. How could a girl bewitch him so? She could not be older than...well, he had trouble placing age, given the course his life took. Not yet a fully realized woman, but older than she was upon her inaugural visit to the Neverlands. That in between phase when girls were so unconsciously beguiling; eager to show off their good breeding, but ever so gently pushing the boundaries set by the status quo. Hook had only tangled with youths when he was a youth, a dreadfully long time ago. Broadly speaking, James preferred women, and well experienced women at that, though there have been the occasional exemptions he made for his own sex. He never would have surmised himself capable of the captivation and patience to guide a girl through her sexual awakening; to withhold his own selfish desires in lieu of her wanton demands, to delight in her discoveries, and eventual welcome to tend to his needs with open arms. Her consent meant more to him than the pirate in him was willing to admit. As a gentleman, though, it was par for the course. Being able to deliver pleasure to a woman was simply good form; he was grateful for an early education at an age not much older than Wendy. To have this girl, though, this particular woman-child, find bliss in his arms did something to his soul he knew not yet what. What is it about Wendy Darling? Her voracious appetite for earthly delights? Certainly. Her bewildering aptitude in the erotic arts? Definitely. The fact that she is Peter Pan's favorite?  
  
Hook winced and took a swig of his wine.  
  
_Probably._  
  
For James Hook knew he must be honest with himself, however painful and unchivalrous the truth may be. Yes, her close connection to The Boy Who Could Fly did make their encounters all the more titillating. That Wendy Darling chose to grow up did not surprise him - they all grow up - but it was sensuality she embraced, and with he no less, shocked the hell out of Captain Hook. Perhaps this is revenge on the boy who refuses to grow up and join her in these sensual delights? The thought comes unbidden, souring the wine in Hook's mouth. He pushes the voice of doubt aside, instead focusing on the girl herself. Lovely creature if there ever was one. Such a dichotomy for one so young: a good girl who listens to Mother, studies on her holidays, exemplifies all that is fair and just with the pleasant mannerism of true lady. And yet, so eager to shuck off the shackles of childhood and revel in the playground of adulthood where Mother and Father are sure to eagerly shield from her.  
  
And, oh, does Hook desire her. _Desperately._ He wants to feel those tight virginal walls around his cock as he fucks her over and over. He wants to hear his name from her lips, acknowledging that he is the one giving her absolute pleasure. But he knew they were not quite at this pivotal moment yet, that they may never reach this journey's end. For Wendy may decide she no longer wants to continue this folly with a pirate, or that she is content to remain where they are and go no further. Whatever the case, James Hook knew that wherever she leads this bizarre escapade of carnality, he will surely follow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you are still enjoy this fanfic. It just gets dirtier from here on out. Teehee. *^.^*  
> http://geek-girl-extraordinaire.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day four.

He was waiting for her in the glen, sleeves rolled up as he slashed the air with flourish to warm up. Her applause gave him a minor start, and he was not quick enough to mask the self satisfied grin on his face. She was wisely only in her combinations again, this time with a sword in hand rather than her French book.

"Not terrible for a pirate who started out right handed," he says, smiling ruefully at his hook. He mistook her quiet for discomfort until he raised his eyes to hers and spied not pity but awe. It unnerved him enough to cause him to take half a step back as he marveled almost suspiciously, "You do not pity me."

"Pity?" Wendy exclaims with a beautiful full-throated laugh. "Dearest Captain, I should think you are the last man I would ever bestow pity on. You are too capable a man for pity."

He wanted to mistrust her words, taste the arsenic in the honey, but he could not. She was in pure earnest, and he was at a loss for words, leaving them in a prolonged silence.   

"Peter can be very cruel," Wendy remarked soberly, giving herself a jolt as if the thought broke away from her subconscious to run to the surface of her thoughts.

"We can all of us be cruel, my little lady," Hook retorts. "Although I shall grant Pan this: it was a clean cut."  
  
"Did it take an awfully long time to heal?"  
  
"Adjusting to a left handed life presented to be the greatest challenge. But I have lived longer with this hook than without, even if I cannot sense the passing of time the way I used to." He shook his head abruptly. "Come, let me see this instrument you brought. No doubt rusting and loose at the hilt. Hmm." He made a show of inspecting her sword, to the point that Wendy caught on to his game and crossed her arms impatiently over her chest with a huff until he returned it. "I suppose it will do. For now."

He took her back to the very basics, starting with her stance. She was a good girl who had been taught proper posture, though her escapades in Neverland were starting to give way to bad habits that he was quick to catch and correct before schooling her on the basic stances and guards for swordfighting. He would not relent until she had perfected all of them. Physicalities were not her strong suit, but she tried her best, that Hook knew from the determined glean in her eyes, the pearls of sweat beaded along her brow, and her refusal to complain or claim fatigue. He would make her hold the pose until he sauntered around her, inspecting every inch of her stance until he was satisfied. If he found fault, Hook would reach out and gently swat the offending limb with the flat of his sword, signalling to try again. She was having especial difficulty with _porta di ferro mezana_ , a guard that required Wendy to bend in a half lunge, with her left leg forward and bent at the knee, but her right leg extended back with her heel off the ground. She wobbled, causing him to raise a critical brow as he circled her and, without even thinking, scooped down and gave her a swat on the rear as he snapped, "Hold still, girl!"

The sudden contact must have startled her, as indicated by the squeak she emitted. When he rounded to examine her from the front, he noted a severe scarlet blush spreading across her cheeks. A devious plot quickly hatched in his wicked mind. He made her go through the stances and guards again, this time giving her a swat on the buttox for every infraction, however minor. She yipped and squeaked, yelped and chriped, her blush deepening as she struggled to hold her pelvis still as well, confirming his suspicions that his Wendy Darling did not mind the feel of his hand against her backside. Coddled as she was, James deduced she had likely never before been struck by her parents.

"That is enough for today," he said, sitting crossed legged on the grass stained blanket from yesterday. "Put your sword down and have a rest."

Relief shone on her face as she unceremoniously dropped her sword and flung herself face down onto the blanket beside him. Rolling his eyes at the drama of her actions, Hook could tell this was going to be a day of adolescent driven theatrics if he did not keep a firm grip on it.

"When did you learn to sword fight?" she asked him, peeping up from her arm.

"I started in my youth, younger than you are now, with a private instructor and continued when I was sent to school."

"Sent?" Wendy lifted her head.  
  
Hook shifted uncomfortably as he avoided her gaze to momentarily gather his thoughts. They were treading dangerously close to waters he would rather not sail - not yet anyway. Although, the unique nature of their relationship did dictate some sort of familiar niceties. _What harm does it do to share minor details that no longer matter?_ The reasonable voice in him said.

"Yes, to Eton."

It was worth sharing this nugget of personal information just to see the look of shock on her face. He smirked down at her.    
  
"I recall informing you yesterday that I attended England's finest institutions of academia. I am a gentleman, after all."  
  
"Yes, but I,"

"Did not believe me?"

"No!" She insisted. "I believed you, I just would not have...although. Upon reflection, it is fitting." She appraises him with her wide hazel eyes.

"I am so pleased you approve."

Rolling on her back like a cat in the sunshine, Wendy lazily stretches her arms upward, tangling her slim fingers at the ends of his curly hair and gently stretching them. "Captain, when will I be good at fighting?"  
  
"Years, because your visits are inconsistent and I will not dedicate all of our time to your lessons." He leans back onto his elbow and stares down at her. "Whom are you so eager to clash swords with, my sweet?"  
  
"Anyone who dares to tell me I cannot achieve whatever I set out to do," Wendy states. "And anyone who calls me girly."

Rolling onto his stomach but still supported by his elbows, Hook ruminates, "And here I thought you were a storyteller, not a sword fighter."

They were nearly eye to eye as Wendy retorts, "You will find, Sir, that I am a woman of many talents."

"I already do," says the Captain as he closes the distance between them to engage her lips. The depth of passion with which she displays nearly leaves him breathless; instead he doubles down and shifts his weight so that he is all but lying atop her. Not for the first time, he wants to slice her silly combinations to remnants and have his way with her. He knows better, though, for as much serenity as this pretty little glen provides, it is not the ideal locale to deflower such a tender maid. Rushing would service nobody, and he so desired to be as attentive to her as humanly possible. Trusting their privacy and comfort in the hands of mother nature, all of the elements, and the law of irony was out of the question.

Shifting his weight to the right side, Hook looked down at her in contemplation. She soon began to squirm and blush.

"Why do you look at me so intently?"

"I am trying to find fault with you."

"What?" she laughed.

"I want an excuse to have you over my knee."

"I beg your pardon?" Wendy cried as he suddenly hoisted himself up to a sitting position.

"Nevermind; I shall dredge up past indiscretions that you are doubtlessly guilty of."

"What!" She cried again in bewilderment as he grabs hold of her right breast through her chemise and begins to massage it. Bafflement stays on her face even as Wendy begins to writhe under his rough caresses, moving on to the left breast before abruptly ceasing.

"Up."

Wordlessly, Wendy rises to her feet, standing just over his head as he remains seated. He catches her firmly by the waist, carefully aiming the point of his hook away as his arms encircle her and positions her stomach down across his lap. He plants his left hand across her clothed buttocks, kneading her pert little bottom as he talks in a low, sultry tone.

"Yes, they are all rushing to me now, all of your terrible misdeeds."

"Misdeeds?" Wendy exclaims. "You are surely one to talk!"

His hand comes crashing down with a definitive crack, causing her to gasp and tense.

"First and foremost," Hook states with utter boredom, "Insubordination."

Incredulous, Wendy cranes her neck to glare at him.

"For running away from home, surely Mother and Father would agree with me."

_Whack!_

"For leading your brothers into hooliganism."

_Whack!_

"For stealing my ship."

_Whack! Whack!_

"For engaging in piracy."

Outraged, Wendy begins to squirm and sputter in his grip, "Excuse me? Why, you hypocrite, you-!"

The strike across her rear end silenced her. Roughly, Hook massaged both cheeks as he thought of her most obvious crime.

"Of course, the greatest sin of all, carousing with that imp Peter Pan."

_Whack!_

"Actually, you deserve another ten for that travesty alone."

"Ooooh," Wendy squeals, squirming under the rapid succession of spanks. Her cry melts into a moan, but whether her moans were from pleasure or pain, Hook could not tell. Bending forward, he presses his lips against the crown of her head and in a soothing voice he asked, "Shall I up the ante, precious?" Her sharp subtle nod was all he needed as he slowly pulled down her drawers and exposed her pert rear end, already smartening with his efforts. Sending the garment down around her ankles, Hook took his large palm and rubbed it coarsely over her tender, soft skin. He could hear her panting in exquisite anticipation. The first crack of hand on flesh was every bit of delicious as he expected. Her body gave an involuntary start, but her noises were reaffirming. He wedged his fingers between her thighs, parting them to examine her most private areas. He wanted to see her dripping wet for him, but quickly judged she needed more work.

He had no desire to analyse why this particular game pleased him so, but he was delighted that his Wendy darling took to it like a duck to water, despite her ever reddening flesh and the way her voice cracked as she tried in vain to stifle her sobs. Once he heard tears, Hook stopped and hugged her close to him, kissing her temple before murmuring, "Shall I cease, treasure?" He was mildly surprised that she immediately shook her head. She was turning out to be a more complicated creature than he anticipated, and James adored her for it.

Another set of rapidly paced spanks before he hovered his hand tensely above her, watching her struggle to not let the anticipation overrule her control as she waited and waited and _WHACK!_ This went on, a non-pattern of fast and measured strikes. Her sweet flesh never broke, he was too controlled for that, or blemished in such a way that would not fade within a few hours. The vibrant red across her buttocks reminded him of the sweet flush of her face when she came for him. It was his new favorite shade of scarlet. Finally, when her body began a rhythmic movement against his lap, Hook knew it was time again to part her thighs. He was remunerated this time with her perfectly sodden sex, impatiently waiting for his attention. Wendy herself was attempting to raise her hips in a most greedy and primal display of want. Hook would not abide, keeping her pinned down to maintain his control.

"If you recall, precious, I have but one hand. Should you continue to fidget, we shall sit here for the remainder of the day until your learn proper control."  
  
She instantly stilled, even going so far as to make a valiant attempt at quieting her whimpers to keep her body from quaking. He rewarded her obedience with the tip of his middle finger tracing her damp nether lips before inserting the finger. A desperate sob of want escaped her, but he did not mind for she kept still, save for her dainty curling toes. He continued to lazily tease her her, leisurely thrusting his finger inside of her while maintaining an expression of indifferent boredom. In truth, he was in sheer bliss and it took all of his concentration to tune out his own desires and focus solely on a methodical pace with her. He was evidently not hitting where she wanted and she continually fought the compulsion to writhe her hips in the hope she could angle his finger just so. Growing irritated by her lack of subtlety, Hook quickly withdrew and smacked her on the rump, eliciting a frantic yelp from her.

“Are you always so exceptionally misbehaved, Wendy?” _WHACK!_ “Is the good little girl merely a pantomime?” _WHACK!_ “I thought as much the first time we laid eyes on one another on my ship. No child possesses the well-mannered nature you pretend so very well.” _WHACK!_

Through her staggered gasps and tears, Wendy cranes her neck to look at him as she reveals in a husky, strained voice, “That was not the first time I saw you.”

He immediately ceases as they stare at one another. Has he been found out? James knows in his heart and memory the _real_ first time he saw her, but he had been spying and feeling particularly self-pitying as he watched Pan and Wendy dance in the night sky. It was not his most gallant moment - but had she known all along?  
  
“What did you say?” He asked barely above a whisper.

She looked caught between regret and stubbornness and must have been internally debating within herself before ultimately divulging this secret.

“I saw you on the ramparts of the Black Castle,” she confessed. As he searched his memory, she prompted him with more clues. “You had kidnapped my brothers and Tiger Lily.”

“Yes, I recall the night in question,” he said tersely. “What I am lacking is any memory of your presence.”

“You heard a noise outside and went to inspect. I was hiding in the shadows, watching you scan for the source of the noise.” She nearly mirrored his smirk perfectly. "I thought even then that despite your villainy, you cut a very roguishly handsome figure in the moonlight."

Dumbstruck, he continued to stare at her until his wits suddenly recovered. Hiding his temporary daze with a smirk, Hook said, “So. You have a touch of pirate inside you after all, Miss Darling.”  
  
The flush across her face deepened as she swallowed hard, narrowed her eyes, and retorted with effort, _“Not yet.”_  
  
Her meaning took him a fraction of a moment, just enough time for her audacity to sink in before he grabbed her, flipped her over, and sent his hand cracking not against her backside but on her sex. 

As she howled in shock, he scooped her up into his arms and began planting kisses all over her face, aware she was mirroring his actions.

"What a clever girl I have,” he purred against her ear before nipping the lobe.

Winding his disfigured arm around her middle, James held her tightly against his chest, allowing him to deliver blow after blow on her bum. Her head rested on his shoulder, offering him prime position to hear every exquisite little squeak and moan. Her arms wound around his neck, her eyes as wet as her sex, which he alternated on the attention from his left hand. First, a series of smacks across her backside, then a finger or two plunging methodically inside her quivering vagina, stroke the clitoris until just the right moment when he would remove himself altogether and crack her bottom once more. Feeling singularly fiendish, Hook drew her to the edge like this over and over, only to abruptly pull back and spank her. Her pleas were incomprehensible, begging him for mercy louder and sweeter than any man at the end of his hook or woman at the end of his cock, for that matter.

Finally, with his own need burning too brightly to ignore, Hook leaned back to face her, capturing her lips roughly as his fingers attended to her clit and deftly brought her to completion. He tasted her anguish, savored her satisfaction, and swallowed her shuddering sigh, hanging tight to her as she went limp against his body. His lips were on her cheeks, nose, eyelids, ears, and his hand softened its strokes as he gently pet her tresses, back, and arms. Soothing, nurturing caresses, apologizing for his cruelty.

"Shhh, my treasure," he whispered against her hair as her face remained buried against his neck, whimpering. He thought he heard her murmur his name, but he could not be sure. "You continue to surprise me as ever, my darling girl. My exceedingly clever and good girl." He attempted to extract her from his person, but she defiantly clung to him with a whine of protest. "Fret not and trust me." He was mildly alarmed by her behavior; had he crossed a boundary and inadvertently caused her to regress? Repositioning them, Hook lay Wendy on her back with himself propped up on his right elbow looking down upon her. He kept his hand cupping her face, his thumb stroking her pouting lips. "Did I push you too far, precious?"

"No," Wendy said at last, her voice hoarse as she angrily wiped away the last of her tears. "I do not know why I am crying."

"The pain?" He ventured.  
  
"Initially, yes, I believe so," Wendy replied, her brow knitting in consternation. "Although, it did not really hurt. It stung, yes, but there was something more. An emotion I do not yet have a name for."

Her candor and clarity moved him in such a way that caused him to shift uncomfortably as he realized how rapidly her charm was captivating him. "Can you describe this inner conflict?"

She tilts her head as she vocalizes her thoughts. "I felt shame, or rather, like I ought to have felt shame, but the shame is that I took pleasure from it." She frowns. "I must sound terribly stupid."

"Not in the least," he assured her, rubbing her earlobe between his thumb and index finger. "You are perfectly comprehensible." He takes hold of her chin and leans down to gently kiss her, tasting the relief on her breath before they part and press their foreheads together. A nervous titter escaped her lips as she strokes his face with one hand. He is distracted by this and does not take notice of her leg maneuvering between his until he gives an involuntary start and hiss at the sudden sensation of desperate need when her kneecap deliberately presses suggestively between his thighs. They lock eyes and she tilts her head, a question in her eyes. "I wish to introduce new concepts to you, Wendy, but I am unsure the wisest direction to venture down today."

"Go where you please, sir. I shall follow."

He shakes his head even as desire spikes in him at her words. "Wendy, Wendy," he murmurs like a prayer as he lowers himself onto her, kissing and nuzzling her neck. "You are so lovely, I fear losing control and hurting you."

"You have done well not to hurt me so far," Wendy reminded him. "Even when you struck me. I was never truly hurt."

His hand finds the strap of her chemise and pulls it down before he hoists himself up just far enough to roughly pull at the fabric until he has freed her breasts. Dipping down again, James takes hold of a nipple in his mouth, sucking in earnest as he debates within himself. Her fingernails rake against his scalp, distracting him from his thoughts before he gives up, releasing her nipple with a delicious little pop sound. He stares heavily at her for a moment or two before hoisting himself up.

"On your knees, girl."

Wendy gives him the briefest of puzzled looks before she sits up, discards her chemise entirely and repositions herself on her knees. Hook stands, masking his nerves behind an expression of cool indifference as he stands before her. She looks so small, almost waifish in her naked petiteness. He does not mean to intimidate her or emphasize their height difference in this manner, only that it is is the position most conducive for achieving his goal. She catches on as soon as his hands are at his breeches, her delicate hands joining his larger suntan hand to unfasten his laces. He mildly wonders how long her boldness will last even as she assists freeing his cock and takes hold of it in her recently schooled firm grasp, applying lessons learned from yesterday. An apt pupil indeed.

"Good," he praises through a shudder of relief, running his fingers against the crown of her head. "Now, take it between your lips.” Her eyes quickly dart up and for the first time he sees apprehension, though she quickly averts her eyes and does not cease her current ministrations. "No?" He inquires. “You do not have to, Wendy." He senses she is quickly working things out, and leaves her to her thoughts, averting his eyes so she does not feel the pressure of his gaze upon her and incorrectly assume this is a demand rather than a request. He gives a start as he feels the tip of cock enveloped in her warm, wet mouth. She moans, causing an immeasurably pleasurable sensation to ripple through his body. Catching himself as he nearly lurches forward, James takes a long, deep breath and repositions her hand to his liking. She takes well to multitasking, and though he can feel the hesitation in her, she adapts and slowly begins to relax as she takes a more proactive role than mere receptacle.

Acutely aware of how easy it would be to lose himself, Hook remains hyper vigilant of his his body, careful to maintain a very shallow and slow rhythm for his darling girl. Her tongue makes this an especially difficult task, running thickly over the head of his cock in curious swipes. While still grasping the base, Wendy extracts herself from him to bashfully inquire, "Am I doing it correctly?"

"Confoundit, girl, yes!" James roared, forgetting himself by grasping the back of her head and yanking her forward. Blissfully, she was quick enough to open her mouth, though his propulsion was a touch forceful than intended, sending half of his shaft into her mouth. She nearly lost balance, judging by the painful twist of his base as she quickly regained purchase. He moved his hand to grip her underneath her chin, slightly elevated so should would not gag as he returned to his methodic thrusting. Her tongue was on him again, more confident as it paid keen attention to his slit, circling and dipping in varying amounts of pressure like the highest paid courtesan.

"By god, girl, is there no task you cannot master?" She quickens her pace on his shaft and hums on his tip in response, causing him to hiss through his teeth as ecstasy roiled through him. "That's it, keep going treasure. Wendy, for a good girl, you are astoundingly wicked." Sensing his impending climax, Hook abruptly pulls away from her and aims for a lower target, spilling on her pert little breasts as they heave from Wendy's shallow breaths. She seems too dazed to care about any of it. Slumping down beside her, Hook wearily gathered her in his lap for an embrace. When he pulls away to plant kisses on her face, James spies the fatigue in her eyes and repositions her ever so slightly so that Wendy is reclined enough to lean against his shoulder and chest. Her eyes close and before Hook knows it, Wendy Darling is dozing in his arms. Still coming down from his sensuous high, James breathes deeply and evenly to regulate his breath. "What in the name of hellfire am I doing?" He whispers to nobody but himself.

Hook remains there, dangerously alone with his thoughts, as he sinks further into a dark pit of guilt. Is it fair of him to accept the offerings of a young lady who may not understand the risk she is taking with their sensual charade? Has her mother not explained the discriminatory values set upon girls in regards to all activities that make growing up worth the bother? Then again, is it fair of him to question Wendy? The girl always seems to know her own mind, and while shy in tender moments, boasts a confidence that defies her genteel upbringing. He admired her for it, stubborn and aggravatingly naive though she can be.

His thoughts were interrupted as Wendy woke with a start, blinking to a bleary eyes consciousness as she shifted in his arms, trying to gather her wits.

“Oh, dear,” she said with an embarrassed grin as she looked up at him. “How long have I been asleep?”  
  
“Not long,” he reassured her gently. “A half an hour at most.”

She hoists herself up with little assistance and begins to unfasten her disheveled plait before heading into the lukewarm water. He removes his clothes and follows suit, though like yesterday, they make quick work of it with minimum conversation.

 

* * *

 

 _I can walk away now,_ James tells himself as they individually dress. _I can end this folly here. She keeps her maidenhood, I keep my conscious. She is on the verge of crossing the point of no return and I am not strong enough a man to resist her invitations. Turn around._ _Tell her it has been a thin slice of heaven but she is better off romping through the woods with Pan than fooling around with a cowardly old pirate. Kiss her on the hand and walk away. Simple._

“Shall we carry on with my sword lessons tomorrow, Captain? I believe my stances and guards will be more satisfactory with another afternoon of tutelage.”

 _Goddamnit._ Hook huffs to himself as he sighs in resignation. _I am no man. I am a lap dog following the call of my mistress._

Hook clears his throat nervously as he inspects his iron appendage. "Miss Darling, charming though this little spot of paradise is, I would like for us to meet elsewhere. Come to my quarters tomorrow whenever you can rid yourself of Pan and his impish brigade." He waited for her response, but the oppressive silence that followed caused him agitation until he was forced to turn and face her. She was staring him with an unreadable expression.

"Is there a way to board undetected?" She asked at last, quickly avoiding his gaze.

Her question did not sting him; she does not want his crew to know about their tryst, and frankly, neither did he. It would tip the scales anyway, as Pan clearly does not know.

"If you can fly, you may board at the rear of the ship. There is a veranda of sorts, backed by windows and a door that leads directly into my cabin."

She nods once in agreement before picking up her sword and quirking her lips into that charmingly, bafflingly shy smile as she approaches him, stepping on her tiptoes to kiss him chastely on the cheek and taking her leave.

"Wendy," Hook calls just as she approaches the thick of the woods surrounding the glen. She turns to look at him over her shoulder. He pauses, conflict jumbling his thoughts and words as he asks lamely, "Why are we doing this?"  
  
She thinks only for a moment before offering him a shrug and that beguiling smile, a kiss tucked at the corner of her mouth on full display for his eyes only.  
  
"Why ever not?" She inquires but continues on her way before he can reply.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a real joy to write. I hope you like it. Stay tuned for more! Comments are appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read notes at the end.

Against his better judgment, Hook drank out of desperation, attempting to quench a thirst that had nothing to do with hydration. Plagued by a wildly overactive imagination, drinking was all he could do to blind himself of the anticipation leading up to his next rendezvous with Wendy Darling. At just over half a bottle of port in, Hook wrenches it from his lips, makes his way out to the veranda and hurls the offending glass into the ocean. The morning sunlight catches the glass before it plops unceremoniously into the water. As he turns, something catches his eye; a tail flopping out of the water, volleying the bottle back where it hits the ship directly below his quarters and shatters.  
  
“Hah!” Hook shouts, feeling particularly petty, even towards small victories against irate mermaids. Deciding he needs to find healthier ways to distract himself from the vortex of chaos engulfing his thoughts, James returns inside to find another source of entertainment. His eyes falls on his bookshelf and though he knows their prose by heart, he picks up Dumas and falls into his worn red velvet wing chair, a leg thrown over the arm. The exacting revenge of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ soothes his dark soul, and Hook soon becomes so engrossed that it takes the alarmed shouting of his crew to rouse him. Abandoning the book, Hook exits his cabin and goes on deck just in time to witness the cloudless sky darken. Nimbostratus clouds materialize, heavy with shadows and precipitation. An icy gale whips through his hair and their sails. The oppressive humidity, present only moments ago, left them in light, loose fitting attire, but now the crew scrambled below deck to layer up.  
  
“Did you see him take off?” Hook inquired as his eyes scanned the sky.

“Aye, Cap’n,” Smee said with a sobering nod. “He just shot up like a bolt of lightnin’ and too quick to see. I ne’er seen him fly so fast in all our years here.”

“Was he alone?” Hook inquired, swallowing hard as he prepared for the answer.  
  
“I think so,” Smee said with an apology in his voice. “He was so fast. ‘Tweren’t any other that can keep up with the likes of Pan, save for a fairy maybe.”  
  
A terrible noise emanated from below. Hook and his boatswain peered over the edge of the ship, watching numbly as the water began to freeze over and trap them in its icy clutches.

“The sails are frozen stiff!” Someone cried from the ratlines.

Growling under his breath, Hook was helpless to the outrage and shock of how quickly the merciless winter overtook them.

“Tis most strange,” Smee commented as his teeth chattered. “Pan’s winters are gradual, at least a few days to give us time to prepare.”

“Whatever time may lapse between Pan’s departure and the winter freeze is not for our benefit,” Hook retorts impatiently. “It is wholly dependent on the state of mind of Neverland’s eternal son.” At least his crew was well trained enough to know exactly what to do on these rare occasions when Pan abandoned Neverland to the merciless cold.

“Cap’n, ye better start up your fire.”  
  
“Damnation,” Hook swore with a sigh. It had been so long since this level of winter reached them; the last time Pan departed, presumably to fetch Wendy, he hadn’t been gone for more than three days and the blustery gales that followed in his wake were a cool reprieve from the wretched heat. “Go send up some fresh coal. I am sure mine are long dead.”

“Aye-aye.”

By the time Hook managed to reach his cabin again, after having to pause and bark orders at fumbling crewmen, Smee had not only delivered the hod of coal but lit a puny fire in his small stove that stood on its little dais of fire bricks and stone slabs. It would be a long while yet before the fire hearth in the galley could be stoked hot enough to warm the entire ship, and for that Hook felt helpless for his crew. By the time the fires even began to give warmth, Pan may already return. Exposing his crew and ship to the whimsy of an enchanted child creature had never been his direct intentions in life, but both have paid for it, even with the occasional life lost to the harsh Pan winters throughout the years.

Crouched in front of his small heat source, it isn’t until after stoking the fire with fresh coals that James begins to sense he was not alone. Whipping around, poker in hand, the _Jolly Roger_ Captain scans his quarters before his eyes finally settle on the veranda beyond, where Wendy Darling is standing, looking out towards the ocean as the wind cruelly rips through her loose hair. Throwing the poker down in frustration, James storms over to the door and wrenching it open, barks,

“Why are you just standing out there, you silly girl?” She raises her gaze to him, revealing tears and blotches of redness from crying. Taken aback and feeling ridiculous for having yelled at her, Hook steps aside and motions for her to come inside. “What happened, Wendy?”

“I was in a terrible fight with Peter,” Wendy reveals, shivering as if the cold had a delayed reaction on her. He quickly lifts a throw off the back of his worn red velvet sofa before wrapping her up and guiding her to sit next to him. She leans heavily on him, clinging to his shirt as she sniffles and explains. “I told him I was being sent off to school. That this may be the last time we see one another because he will no longer find me so easily. He got in a terrible state and said he would find the school and take me from there, but...I tried to explain to him that it was impossible.”

“Pan does not know impossibilities,” Hook said not unkindly as he ran his left hand through her hair.

“He is stubborn,” Wendy snarls. “He does not listen. I told him I do not _want_ to say goodbye to him, but this is the reality of my life. He turned his back to me and said he would find another storyteller to play Mother with and flew off. I hardly knew what had happened before everything...all of Neverland began to change.”

“You have never witnessed what the island does when Pan leaves her,” Hook explains gently. “All of us are at Pan’s mercy. He will return, though, and Neverland will thaw.”

A realization began to dawn on Wendy’s face as she slowly shook her head and looked up at him. “This must drive you positively mad, sir.”

He laughs despite himself, unable to contain the bittersweet bite of her newfound knowledge. He almost regrets his humor when he spies a shy embarrassed sort of expression on her pretty face and holds her reassuringly close.

“I am sorry, precious,” he apologizes with a kiss atop the crown of her head. “I promise I am not laughing at you. It is rare that one of Pan’s companions understands the true nature of their leader, and even then, it typically involves a narrow escape from Pan’s sword.”

“I sense the older I become, the less sincerity there is in life,” Wendy remarks, her eyes downcast as she sighs against him. Hook frowns; her unhappiness and disappointment wounds him deeper than he thought possible. He can shoulder the weight of his own regrets and bitterness, but to witness this precious woman-child discovering the ugly realities of life was almost too much a burden. He tilts her chin up with the curve of his hook.

“Do not let it consume you, Miss Darling, as I have allowed it to consume me. I have always admired your fortitude. It would be a tremendous casualty were you to let life’s shortcomings chip away at it.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Wendy says with a weak but honest smile. “I appreciate your words, truly.” She gives a start as heavy boots stomp above deck and pass his door along the way down. Feeling nervous and protective, Hook extracted himself from her and goes to bar his door lest Smee or some other fool stumbles in and spies her there. He does not want this secret out just yet. Not for shame, naturally, but greed. She is his Wendy today and his alone. He lingers at the door, leaning against it as he studies her across the cabin, her feet tucked up under her as she wraps the blanket tightly around her lithe body. Her eyes are on the black hearth, lost in thought and unaware or uncaring of his gaze. He vaguely wonders what will become of her after she departs Neverland. Will she attempt to return, or will Neverland slip from the recesses of her memory, destined to become a woman’s dimly lit but fondly remembered imaginary play of youth? _And myself along with those memories,_ intrudes an errant thought. On one hand, it could be beneficial to them both for her to forget. She will never have to live with the regret of carnal explorations with a rotten scoundrel, and he can move on with his life (such as it is) and not be troubled by these ever philosophical debates with his soul.

“Tea?” He asks suddenly, banishing the brooding thoughts threatening to linger.

Wendy perks up in surprised interest and nods. “Yes, please.”

He hurries about his cabin, grateful for the preoccupation of a menial task. As the tea steeps, Wendy points to the table questioningly but he shakes his head at her unspoken question.

“No point in formalities under the circumstances,” Hook states simply as he presses a pewter mug of tea into her grateful hands. She takes a sip and smiles at him, her previously pale cheeks ruddy from the addition of warmth.

“Darjeeling! Thank you.”  
  
“My pleasure,” he says, raising his own cup to her before taking a sip. She suddenly pulls down her mug and stares skeptically from the vessel to him and back again. He raises a brow. “Is something amiss?”

“How did you come about this tea, Captain?” Wendy asks, her hazel eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

He smirks as he saucily replies, “I _am_ still in the business of piracy, Miss Darling. Never forget that.”

Wendy leans closer to him and she replies unblinkingly, “The plank under my feet and the sword in my face were keen reminders that I shan’t ever forget your line of business.”

“There you have it.” He said, leaning back comfortably against the cushions of his sofa as he kicked up his feet on the trunk used as a table. “And I apologized for those indiscretions.”

“Firstly,” Wendy said, setting her mug down on the trunk. “You most certainly _never_ apologized to me. Secondly, I have never seen you engage in the actual act of trade, bartering, thievery, or otherwise, so my inquiry is not outlandish, especially considering that I have never set eyes on another vessel with which to trade or steal from.”

“Just because you have never seen other ships and their crews does not mean they do not exist, my dear.” Before she can fire off another series of questions, Hook adds, “And that is all I am prepared to say on the subject for now.”

She glares at him dubiously as she takes hold of her mug once more and mutters, “You still never apologized.”

Chuckling lowly, Hook rearranges their position on the sofa, sitting along its length with her back against his chest, the blanket covering her stretched out legs. He enjoys the comfort of their close contact, the tranquility of the simple act of drinking tea together. Setting his empty teacup down to have use of his left hand, Hook gently cups her chin and tilts her face up to look at him.

“Wendy Darling, I used you abysmally as a pawn in my childish attempt to smote my nemesis Peter Pan. I sincerely apologize for my behavior as it was unbecoming of a gentleman and I beg your forgiveness.”

Stretching her neck, Wendy kisses him in response. He leans down for a more robust kiss, reaching blindly for her nearly empty mug and setting it aside as their kiss deepens. She twists against him, facing him as she rises to her knees to be at level with him, her arms around his neck as she opens her mouth to welcome his tongue. When she breaks it off, Wendy sits nose to nose with him, her expression oddly impassive, pensive almost as she queries, “But precisely how much do you desire my forgiveness? How sorry are you _truly_?”  
  
A devious glint in his eyes shines as he retorts, “I do believe the real question is, how sorry do you wish me to be?" Fully cognizant that even the most active of imaginations cannot conjure the vocabulary necessary for a fantasy beyond their antics, Hook watches her squirm before finally taking pity on her. “Shall I beg?”

“No,” she immediately rejects the notion. “You are not a begging man.” She raised her chin proudly. “Nor do I wish you to be.”

He swallows a breath. _How does this creature understand me so thoroughly?_

“Do you wish for revenge?” he suggests.

Her silence is telling; this clearly intrigues her.

“How do you mean, sir?”  
  
“Well,” he begins. “As I clearly inflicted discomfort, ‘twould be most fair should you desire to return the favor somehow.”

“You wish for me to bind you, point a sword in your back, and make you walk the plank?”

“Obviously, our imaginations are restricted to the confines of my quarters.” He did not bother to offer the chance of the former most act of binding him. _Too soon for such advanced lessons._

Wendy shrugs as she halfheartedly offers, “Shall I simply strike you across the face?”

His eyes widen as he is caught off guard. _Then again…_

“If…” he clears his throat. “That is what you feel will balance the scales…”

“It is all I can think of. I do not wish to cause you grievous harm.” She blushes with humility. “Not that I could.”

“I’m sure you could achieve a great many injuries to me, if you put some enterprise into the endeavor.”

“Then a strike?” Wendy asks, worrying her bottom lip.  
  
“A strike it is.” He makes a show of it, shaking his head, working his jaw as if preparing for the impending pain. He sits tall and squares his shoulders before nodding once. “At your leisure, madamoiselle.”

She continues to gnaw on the corner of her full bottom lip even as a devious little smile widens across her face.

“Cold feet?” Hook asks. “Come now, child, I have had far worse.” He raises his right iron appendage. “Clearly.”

“I think…” Wendy begins timidly. “I should like to wait.”

This baffles him. Cocking his eye as he turns his head ever so slightly, Hook asks curiously, “Wait for what?”

“The perfect moment.”  
  
He does not believe his ears.

“What?” He asks, his throat dry even as he feels his mouth water. 

“I shall bide my time as you did when you lured me into your snare. When the moment presents itself, I shall not hesitate to take it. After all, the sting is in the anticipation.”

He is positively reeling with wonder and more than a little arousal. Grabbing her by her backside with his left hand was all the signal she needed; they were on one another instantaneously, lips locked, limbs intertwined, chests heaving together, and hands and hook eagerly tugging and pulling at one another’s clothes. He has her naked and on her back before she can remove more than his vest, shirt, and the topmost laces of his breeches. With swift expertise, Hook wrestles and kicks off his footwear before turning his attention fully on the delicious young girl under him. Careful not to lay his full weight on her, James eases himself chest down, half on his right side braced against the sofa, half on her. His left hand caresses her face gently, cupping her cheek before he plants soft kisses on her lips, eyelids, nose, forehead, neck, collarbone, down, down, down, to her breasts where he spends some time arousing them to erectness before moving downward, her concave soft tummy. Anticipating his destination, Wendy bites down on her bottom lip and raises her outside knee just as he slides downward between her thighs. He is attentive on the soft flesh there, sucking the sweet little pudge mere inches where he knows his Wendy girl is aching most for his attention.

"James, please," she whined. "Please, now."

He slaps her haunch and gestures for her to scoot back; the sofa is more of a glorified settee sitting two comfortably and not meant for anyone taller than Wendy to be able to lay stretched on it fully. Complying, Wendy is soon reclining with the rounded cushioned arm of the sofa half propping up her back, one leg thrown over the back of the sofa, the other propped against the trunk in a wanton display of her petulant demand.

"You are the greediest little kitten in heat I ever feasted my eyes upon," James jibes as his tongue teases her quivering opening. Her head thrown back and her hair loose over the edge of the sofa, Wendy is too worked up to care to refute his taunts. He takes a generous lap before demanding, "Say it."

"Wh-what?" Wendy asks, raising her head with effort.

"You heard me. Do not make me repeat myself, or else I shall return to my duties outside and leave you here to contemplate your predicament."

She groaned in protest but did not outright refuse his request.

"Perhaps you require a little encouragement," he mused before focusing solely on her clit, working it with this tongue as he inserted a finger. She gasped, writhing her hips in the hopes of achieving more from him.

"Say it."

"I...I am a greedy...uhm..."

"Go on, precious."

Clearly humiliated by the request, it took Wendy a few more tries before she was able to squeak out, "I am a greedy little kitten in heat."

He rewarded her with doubled effort, sucking, and licking, lapping and kissing. His fingers continued their attentions as well, stretching her in preparation for what was no longer able to be put off. She came hard, with her back arched off the cushions and a shout of profound ecstasy. Sitting up, James discreetly dabbed his face, but took a cursory swipe below to ensure she was sufficiently lubricated for what was to follow.

She winced as she straightened her back, releasing it from its strain against the arm of the sofa, but quickly recovered as she slid over to him for closeness. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her several times before sighing, "Before either of us acquires a regrettable strain from this atrociously small furnishing, let us away." He stood and held out his hand of her to grasp, which she took as he stood up and assisted her to her feet. Swatting her with a resounding smack on the ass, Hook motioned towards his bed. She took the hint and dashed over with a yelp as he made to swat her again.

Hanging his head down, Hook walked as if a condemned man, sitting on the edge of his bed as he kept his eyes downcast, poised on the laces of his breeches but hesitant.

"Wendy..." he began ominously. "If there were ever a time to back out of this, now is that moment." He raised his head, forcing himself to look into her eyes. "I will not be able to undo whatever we embark on from here. If you wish to cease now, I am perfectly amenable to leaving us as we are right now. We need not go any further than this point."

Hook was almost worried she did not comprehend his meaning as she tilted her head at him. Just as he was afraid he was going to have to be indelicate with his wording, Wendy crawled over to him and knelt just behind him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed his temple.

"My darling Captain Hook," Wendy cooed in his ear. "Did you not take notice of me when I arrived? Or rather, what I lacked?"

Hook searched his memory, going over the memory of her tear stained face looking up at him so pathetically. The only noticeable difference to her was she she arrived in her nightgown, but he had assumed she put that on when the winter began to fall. _Wait a minute,_ he thought. _Wendy clearly went back to Pan's lair to put on this extra layer for warmth before flying out to my ship...but what she deliberately did not bring…_

"Your sword." Hook whispered breathlessly, turning to look at her. "You did not bring your sword."  
  
She pressed her lips to his ear. "I do want to learn proper swordsmanship, but I did not want to keep up the pretense. Today especially."

"Clever girl," Hook moaned as he turned to capture her lips.

"Clever man," She whispered hotly against his skin as her hand pressed down his hardened chest and stopped just above his breeches.

He clasped her hand and turned his head so that they were nose to nose.

“When do you return to London?”

“Tomorrow.”

He nodded soberly. ”Then we must make the most of today, my darling girl.”

She said quietly, “Wendy.”

He looked at her quizzically. She looked up at him bashfully through thick curling lashes.

“I am your Wendy Darling.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. She placed her petite hand on his cheek and held him in place as she closed the brief distance between them. Their kiss was tender, sweet even; sweet like taste of her lips, skin, and sex. Using their size difference to his advantage, James began to slowly maneuver her backwards to the head of the bed, always kissing, always touching in some manner as he guided her to recline against the bolster and pillows. He paused to sit up once more and remove the rest of clothes, catching Wendy’s compulsory modesty from the peripherals of his vision. He snorted softly at the hypocrisy of the gesture, but chose not to chide her. He pat her right knee, watching her with a wicked pride as she caught on quickly and drew her knees up and out, allowing him to very gingerly stretch out on top of her, but shifting his weight to his right side so as not to smother her. He felt her arms around his neck, her fingers tangle in his hair and her lips claim his again. When they parted, Hook peered down with leveled eyes. A knot twisted in his stomach; a feeling he had not felt in so many years, it was merely an echo in the shadows of his memory.

“Wendy,” he began, unsure how to have such a conversation with a young lady of her sensibilities. Resolved, though, James adopted a stern but honest expression. “I ought to warn you that, for a maid…” He sighed and knitted his brow, feeling the pressure from the weight of her curious stare on him. “There can be discomfort.”  
  
Wendy nods, her hazel eyes warm even as he feels a slight tremble in her body underneath him. Whether it is from nerves or anticipation, James did not wish to ask lest he exacerbate any negative feelings.  Leaning heavily on his right side, James adjusts himself so that the tip of his cock at right at her entrance. At the last minute, he engages Wendy's lips in the hopes of distracting her as he slowly but firmly eased into her. He felt her tense against his lips before she contracted her muscles everywhere, making it all the more tantalizing for him whilst difficult for herself. Her moan of discomfort reverberated through their kiss as he felt nails dig into the flesh at the back of his neck. Breaking their kiss with a pained gasp, Wendy quickly forced a literal staff upper lip, though her eyes betrayed her brave face. Hook tenderly kissed her cheek before saying, “Give me one of your hands, treasure.” She did as he bid, slipping her right hand into his offered left before interlacing their fingers and folding their hands next to her head. The message of empathy seemed to reached her as her nails ceased digging crescent ditches in the flesh of his neck.  
  
“Good,” he breathed. “That’s right, just relax.”

Despite all of the activity they engaged in leading up to this profound moment, her tightness was nearly overwhelming. Her hand squeezed and squeezed as he continued to push inward, ever the reminder of her vestal state, requiring him to concentrate in such a manner as he never had been obligated before. It was only when he was at last fully sheathed in the velvet vice of her sex that Wendy relaxed the iron grip on his hand. Holding himself in place to savor the feel of her, James let out a staggered groan, dipping down to kiss her in gratitude for the astounding gift she bestowed upon him. Her demeanor shifted as her tension ever so slowly dissipated, a haze of lust filming over her hazel eyes as she looked up at him. Roguishly, Hook raised a brow down at her and gave her a shallow tease of a thrust, causing Wendy to tilt her head back and moan.

“Better, precious?” He teased. He felt her flex around his manhood in response, causing him to shudder deliciously. “Oh, you wicked minx.” He muttered, biting down the urge to fuck her outright. Instead he drew out slowly and methodically thrust back in, causing her hips to jolt and a little wanton whimper to escape as she hooked her slim leg over him, resting her heel on the small of his back even as she gasped from the deepening sensation. Aware she would feel him more acutely like this, James cautiously repeated the motion. Her hand flexed, but did not tense.

“Yes?” He asked. She nodded. Relieved, James felt confident to start a calculated rhythm, for which Wendy began a song of salacious noises that filled Hook’s ears like a siren’s melody; sweet and dangerous as she cried out in time to his thrusts. “You are so wonderfully tight, my lovely little girl,” Hook told her, enjoying the way she nibbled on her bottom lip and the scarlet hue on the apples of her cheeks from his vulgar language. “I could fuck you like this ‘til the end of days, gorgeous girl.” Her grip on his neck tightened, anchoring them as her own narrow hips raised to meet his. Flushed and beautifully debauched, her earlier discomfort seemingly forgotten as they worked towards their mutual bliss. Feeling a familiar build with both of them, Hook buried his face against her neck, nipping and licking her salt sweet skin before whispering hotly against her ear: “Touch yourself to completion for me, Wendy.”

Her moan indicated hesitation, inspiring James to take their interlocked hands and slip them between their sweat-slicked bodies, guiding their fingers to engage her clit just above their join.

“Oh, James,” she whimpered, closing her eyes.

Witnessing this young woman writhing in pleasure beneath him burned a bright and villainous fire within Hook, possessive and primal. Enveloped within her, her taste and aroma on his senses brought out an animalistic need in him. “Yes, my Wendy darling, let me hear you again. I want my name on your lips.”

“James,” she moaned, her obedience stoking the flames of his passion and need of her. “James, please.”

“Tell me what you want, Wendy.”  
  
“You,” Wendy immediately answered with a lusty groan, their fingers quickening with his thrusts. “I want you, James.”

“Good,” he panted, his propulsion inching them closer to absolution.

Her eyes opened, meeting his with a question.

“Do you want me, James?” She whispered.

He could have laughed at the dizzying naivety of her query. Instead, she was all the more endearing to him, melting the cold, black hardened exterior around his heart. He captured her lips in a bruising kiss with as much rapture as he could possibly convey.

“Wendy Darling, I _have_ you.”  
  
The briefest of smiles graced her face just before their mutual ecstasy reached its crescendo, the intensity of which echoed throughout his cabin; she clinging tightly to him, her jaw ajar and trembling as he filled her in strong, deep bursts. Gingerly lowering himself onto her while still retaining most of his weight on the right side he kept off of her, James closed his eyes and enjoyed the sounds of their breathing slowly regulating, becoming quieter and steadier as the minutes passed. He was only vaguely aware of her hands; one gently petting him between his shoulder blades, the other close to his face, a finger tracing the contours of the side of his face that was upturned.  
  
_Well, here we are,_ James thought to himself as he half dozed atop Wendy’s chest. _The deed is done. I am already a damned man, may as well make the sins more interesting from here on out._ _I wonder what the penance for the sexual corruption of an innocent young girl might be._ Hook sighed. _Whatever it is, having Wendy was worth it. There is nothing on earth like the smell and taste of her, or the tight feel of her, even when I came deep inside…_ Hook’s thoughts trailed off. _Oh, fuck._

Abruptly raising his head, Hook took a moment to compose his expression, removing all traces of panic before he cleared his throat, giving Wendy a slight start as she had been drifting off.

“Wendy, treasure,” Hook began smoothy. “Forgive me, darling, but I need to ask you a question that you may find...indelicate in nature.”

Wendy knitted her brow at him. “Captain?”

“Have you...that is…” Hook found himself positively sputtering for words. He had never had to ask such a question to a woman before, let alone ruin the warm afterglow of his first foray with Wendy. He raised his blue eyes to the ceiling panel of his bed as he quickly asked, “Have you started your monthlies?”  

“My what?” Wendy asked, clearly at a loss.

“You know,” he mumbled, now looking down at her chest, “the bleeding…”

“What?” Wendy raised herself as much as she could without rolling him off of her. “Am I bleeding?”  
  
“No!” Hook said, holding his palm out to her. “No, no, everything is fine. Relax, lay back. Shhh. Everything is fine.” He caressed her skin until she followed his instructions, a wary and confused expression lingering on her face. “Ignore my question. It never happened.” He smiled charmingly at her, waiting until she relaxed again before moving to kiss her reassuringly. She shivered underneath him, frowning.  
  
“James? I am cold.”  
  
“How thoughtless of me,” Hook apologised, shifting off of her completely and tugging at the coverlet of his bed, motioning for her to crawl under the covers. She hesitated.  
  
“I am in need of a bath,” she protested.

He shook his head at her trivial concern. “And I am a pirate; my bedding has met with worse. Go under and get yourself warm. I will stoke the fire and make you something warm to drink.”

“No alcohol,” she warned, slipping under the sheets as she eyed him sternly.

“The thought did not even cross my mind,” James said innocently as he hoisted himself off the bed and reached for his breeches. It was bitingly cold; his flesh broke out in goose-pimples the moment his bare feet touched the wooden floorboards. _Damn Pan and his insufferable whims._

As he crouched in front of the fire feeding it more coal until the flames roared, Hook heard heavy boots rushing down the stairs that led to the short corridor to his cabin, a frantic pounding on his door.

“Cap’n! Cap’n!”  
  
Hook looked over to Wendy, who was sitting up with the covers drawn up to her chin. James put a finger to his lips before addressing the interloper on the other side of his door.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Come quick; them blasted mermaids are thwaping at the rudder again!”

“Fucking pestilent fish twats,” James snarled as he rose to his feet. “I am on my way." He angrily stomped to the back of his cabin, flinging open the doors to the veranda, too enraged to feel the blistering cold on his half naked form. Leaning over the rail, he could just make out a gang of mermaids circling below the ice. “Get the fuck away from my ship!” He bellowed futilely down at them. Sighing, Hook made his way back inside and over to his wardrobe, angrily fussing with a heavier set of clothes yet still mindful of the sharp appendage he has had many years to figure out how to maneuver without slicing fabric. He thought he caught Wendy peeping around the drapes of his bed to watch him, but by the time he was able to turn his head, there was no trace of her. There was no time to be playful with her, though, when mermaids were determined to spoil the day. Dressed and ready to battle with the briny bitches of Neverland, Hook walked over to the side of his bed where he leaned down and kissed Wendy hard and deeply, pressing her back against the pile of pillows. "Forgive me, precious. Duty calls."

“Why are they attacking your ship?” Wendy asked huskily.  
  
“They think me responsible for Pan’s disappearance,” Hook said with a shrug. “Or find this an opportune moment to act upon their animosity as the ship is rooted too firmly within the ice to escape their vicious wrath.”  
  
“What will you do?” Wendy asked, drawing her knees up and the coverlet up over them to tuck under her chin. Examining her, James noted a peculiar fire in her hazel eyes. Lust? Malice towards the mermaids? Judgement upon him for retaliation?  
  
“Chase them off,” he said, picking up his weapons sash and checking his ammunition. “Kill one or two of them if we can in the hopes it serves as a reminder to any others that attempts sabotage to my precious ship.” He looks up; her expression is impassive. “Does the notion of my killing some fantastical creature out of mythology and dreams turn your stomach, my pet?”

“I am no friend of theirs,” Wendy replied darkly. “They tried to drown me once.”  
  
Hook felt his blood boil as he finished loading his pistol and tucked it in the sash. Approaching the bed once more, he bent down and curled a stray tendril around her ear. "Keep my bed warm. I shall return to you shortly."

* * *

  
James spent the better part of ninety minutes fighting off a school of rogue mermaids, hellbent to use their mighty tails to beat the rudder right off his ship. He had a tenuous relationship with them, and though his opinion was made on a case by case basis, a good many of them were determined to be a thorn in his side. As the mermaids had the advantage of a shell of ice to protect them from retaliation, Captain Hook was forced to roll out the canons and blast apart the frozen surface so that his men may shoot to kill. Their deadly game of cat and mouse had bullets skimming over the briny deep until at last he had his best gunmen positioned in a longboat, lowered just out of a mermaid’s powerful reach but close enough to accomplish fatalities. His men were not without danger as the beasts hurled blocks of ice leftover from their cannon blast holes, causing more than one serious injury and loss of rifle down to Davy Jones’ Locker. After effectively driving off the last hooligan merfolk, they assessed their damages, including having a closer inspection of his crew’s wounds. A handful of teeth missing, a gash here and there, and only one unconscious fellow who was carried down to the infirmary several decks below. When he finally felt confident that things were in order - or as much as they could be under the circumstances - Hook turned to his bosun.

“I’m returning to my cabin. Keep the hearth stoked; we know not when Pan will return.” He took a step before hesitating, adding, “Bring up a bath.”

If his Wendy Darling is feeling less than at her best, perhaps a hot bath will do the trick, and warm her along the way. As he knew the bath would not be ready for some time yet, James had every intention of channeling the energy revitalized by blood and battle in another tussle with his precious little lover waiting for him below.

If I am going to hell, I may as well enjoy the ride.  
  
Already tearing off his outerwear before he fully entered his cabin Hook immediately knew something was amiss before he even had the chance to latch his door. His hawk-like vision scanned the expanse of the great room, trying to pick out any fraction of a detail amiss. Whether he was too preoccupied with thoughts of a flushed and mewling Wendy beneath him or his instinct was failing him, Hook could not pinpoint the cause of his suspicions.  
  
“Wendy?” He called as he discarded his hat, weapons sash, glove, coat and boots, noting the eerie silence. Walking over to his bed, he drew the red velvet drapes back and found nothing but a pile of blankets and pillows. Cocking one brow, James reached down and plucked the largest pillow from the pile, bemused to see a strand of brown hair peeping out. “What on god’s green earth are you doing, girl?” The heaping pile of pillows began to shake and tumble as Wendy wiggled out from under her hidey-hole, her nightgown back on and her face flushed from the warmth of her blanket fortress.  
  
“The cannons were awfully loud,” she complained, looking up at him, her hair wildly tangled even as she primly brushed it away from her face. Relieved, James sat down on the bed and began to remove his waistcoat.

“Wendy,” he began calmly. “What did you get up to whilst I was away?”

“Nothing,” was her answer, said in such a sweet tone that Hook knew it was an outright lie. He narrowed his piercing blue eyes at her, relishing the way she squirmed about as her good girl nature burned with guilt.

“I looked through your books,” she murmured.  
  
“Find anything interesting?” He inquired, lightly tossing his waistcoat and socks to an empty chair.

Wendy stuck her arm underneath the innermost corner of the bed and brought out a novel. He took it from her and fixed her a stern gaze. They held one another’s eyes as he felt the weight of the book in his hand, nice and heavy.

“Rather a substantial volume for a youth.”

“I enjoy reading,” Wendy stated proudly. Haughtily, even, by Hook’s opinion.

“Then you shall tremendously enjoy the punishment I am about to deliver upon your backside,” He retorted, motioning for her to come closer. Her hazel eyes widened, but she obeyed, crawling next to him so that she was within arms reach to nudge her in position over his lap. He heard a distinct huff of protest from her as he raised her nightgown, pleased to see she was still bear underneath.

“I am ever so sorry, Miss Darling,” he hissed, his voice dripping with dangerous condescension. “Do I detect a note of insolence from you?”

“Perhaps you did, Captain Hook,” Wendy replied, supporting her chin on two fists as she kept her elbows together and drawn up.

“You are putting on airs, child, and for that and the misbehavior of prowling around my belongings when I so clearly told you to stay put, I am going to give you a thorough punishment.”

“Well,” Wendy retorted breezily, not looking back at him. “As long as it is thorough.”

The cheek of her left James practically breathless. Recovering, he brought the book down against her backside, enjoying the way her entire body flinched with impact. Determined to make her beg for him to stop, James was utterly merciless in his ministrations, delivering blow after blow, watching her alabaster skin smarten cherry red. His frustrations grew as she seemed impervious to the villainy he descended upon her, lost in a growing hunger for her as she cried out not in pain, but in tantalizing moans, as wanton as any strumpet he had ever bedded. It was as if he were the one being punished, feeling his cock straining more with each strike, his mouth-watering at the sight of her lovely arse in his lap. Unable to resist her, James threw the book onto the floor and shifted out from under her, quickly ridding himself of his shirt and breeches.

"My appetite for you has not yet met satisfaction," he growled. "Remove your nightgown."

She abandoned her nightgown by the time he rose from the bed, grabbing her by an ankle and dragging her forward so that she was on her back, her bottom slightly off the bed. He had the forethought to ensure she was wet enough from their play before guiding his cock back into her tight folds. With one of her legs haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, the other bent at the knee and spread wide, Hook bends forward so he is just hovering above her as he begins his merciless propulsions.  
  
"Remind us whose cock is making you mewl so,” he demands, a secret pride blossom as he realizes she is raising her hips to meet his every thrust.

"Yours," she whimpered between gasping cries of ecstasy.  
  
“Whose cock is this and do you really want it?” He asks, kneading her sorely neglected breasts, twisting her right nipple between his left index finger and thumb.

"Yes!" Wendy shrieks as his tongue swipes down to lick the tenderness left by his fingers on her rosy nipple."Yours!"

"Remember who gives you this pleasure, Wendy. 'Tis not your precious Pan, is it?"

"No," Wendy whimpers again, nibbling on her bottom lip.  

"Who fucks your sweet cunt so satisfactorily?"  
  
Wendy's eyes close as she bites down hard on her lip, moaning.  
  
"Say it," he hisses dangerously. "Say the name that brings you such bliss."

"James," Wendy breathes just above a whisper.

Smirking, James abruptly pulls out of her, laughing under his breath as her eyes fly open, accusatory and confused all at once. He tsks her. "My, my, look at that entitled outrage. One would think you deserve such attentions. Fear not, girl, I'll fill that greedy cunt of yours yet. Get on your hands and knees and hold on to that niche." He nodded at the intricate hollow the neatly carved design left at the head of his bed. She obeyed him, crawling on her hands and knees until she was before the headboard where she took her right hand and slipped it inside the small cranny of the flourishly designed wood. Kneeling behind her, Hook gingerly gathered her hair in the curve of his hook, using his left hand to wrap its full and thick waves around and around the iron appendage, leaving her only with a few inches of slack to move her head to and fro. After a cursory tug to make sure it was in place, James used his left hand to guide his aching cock back inside her sultry heat. Wendy must not have figured out how this position worked as she propelled herself forward in shock, nearly separating them. He firmly tugged her back, his left hand now positioned on her shoulder to steady her.

"Easy, precious," he murmured lowly, bending over her back to give her closeness. "Does this please you?" He asked generously, giving her a small thrust to test the waters of this position.  
  
"Yes," she said quietly.

With her affirmation secured, Hook proceeded to fuck her with the wild abandon he had burned to at the beginning of their liaison. She was utterly marvelous; from her still pink ass bouncing with his thrusts, the bobbing of her head as he tugged on her glorious mane, to say nothing of the melodious noises emanating from her throat.

"James, oh, James, please, yes, yes."

She was the most precious treasure he had ever beheld; the sweetest garden he had ever tilled. He was unable to withhold the madness his ravenous desire for her ignited within him, panting her name as she echoed back his.

"Wendy, Wendy, Wendy."

It was probably the lust for her, spinning his common sense and pragmatism out of alignment as he was consumed by the sensations of her taut sex, but in the heat of the moment he could not recall a time in his wretchedly long life when he felt more alive. He was suddenly jarred reverie as he sensed a struggle she was having with herself; her hips twisted, and she strained to look at him.

"Darling?"  
  
"I need," she cried. "I can't!" Her fingers white knuckling on his headboard flexed with want and all at once he understood. Adjusting his rhythm to a methodical, aggressive thrust, slow enough for her to savor and enjoy as he angled himself directly where she required relief.  
  
"Oh, yes, yes," she sobbed, her voice hitching with contentment. "There, don't stop, don't stop!"  
  
He had taken to teasing her mercilessly, switching his propulsions from rapid fire quickness to agonizingly slow and deep, her delicious noises matching each pace. Detecting his own climax was ready to boil over, it was fast and deep, delivering her harder and quicker to her release until he wrenched her head back with one final tug, bracing himself with his hand clamped on her shoulder as he came forcefully inside her again.

"Wait, wait," he said as she tried to roll onto her side, forgetting the hair wrapped in his hook. Deftly unwrapping her locks, he collapsed on the mattress, the heady aroma of their coupling filling his nostrils as he caught his breath. She suddenly straddled him and taking hold of his hand, guided it to her clit. Rubbing her as vigorously as he had fucked her, James wanted her to come as wonderfully as she brought him to completion. He smirks, too engrossed in his own smug delight watching her writhe atop him, too distracted by her mounting pleasure to take notice of her raised hand, zipping lightning fast and striking him across the face with a force he would never had thought her capable of, her orgasm echoing in his ears as his teeth rattled. He nearly came again just from the force of it.

"My god!" Hook gasped, eyes blazing up at her as she took gulping breaths to recover. "You are a most magnificent siren!"

She blushed and bit her bottom lip as a knock interrupted them once more.

He touched his index finger to her swollen lips. "Shhhh."  
  
Maneuvering out from under her, Hook left the bed and closed the drapes to the bed before stumbling into his breeches, not bothering to fasten them before he opened the door to his men. Barking a few short orders as the men made quick work of setting up the tub, another straggler entered with a copper chocolatière, setting it down on the table as Hook directed with his iron appendage.

"Any sign of the brat and a reprieve from this frozen hellscape?" He asked as much for his own curiosity as Wendy's benefit; the faster she learned Pan's true nature, the easier her inevitable break with him will be.

"Nay, Captain."  
  
He barred the door behind them and returned to his young lady.  
  
"A bath, my dear?"  
  
She smiled and hopped to her feet so that they were eye to eye. She threw his arms around his neck as he wound his arms carefully around her hips and carried her to the steaming tub, mindful to check the temperature lest it blister her perfect flesh. Finding it suitable, Hook carefully lowered her, his lips quirking as she practically melted into the warmth. He moved to the table to prepare another surprise for her.

"I do hope you are not leaving me alone again, Captain," Wendy said, trailing her fingertips across the surface of the water suggestively.  
  
"As my lady wishes." Pewter mug in hand, James crouched down next to the tub and held out the steaming vessel for her. "These chilling mistrals beg for a libation stronger than tea."  
  
Wendy took the offered drink, curiously sniffing A thrill went down his spine as he watched her eyes light up like the first stars of twilight.  
  
"Chocolate!" She exclaimed, gleeful as any unspoiled child would be. Drinking in her pleasure, James stood up and removed his breeches before joining her in the copper tub, pulling her against his chest as he reclined along the high slipper back.

"Where...how on earth did you..." She interrupted her query with a gentle, ladylike sip. "I am thoroughly impressed, Captain Hook."  
  
"I aim to please." He kissed the crown of her head. Slipping his hand below the water between her spread thighs, his fingers came to gingerly touch the tender nodule. "Speaking of pleasure."  
  
"James!" She gasped as scarlet streaked across her face.  
  
"How fair your body, lovely girl?"

She bowed her head to take an exceptionally long sip of her beverage, clearly embarrassed by the question. Sighing exasperatedly, Hook took the mug from her and set it down on the floor beside them. Tilting her chin up to force her to look him in the eyes, he said, "You must find your voice in these matters, precious. How else am I to know if something is not to your liking?"  
  
With a pained expression, Wendy sputters, "No, I enjoyed everything, it is only that..."  
  
Cocking his head in bafflement, James tried to work together what she was struggling to convey. Her face was contorted in such consternation that he could not help but fill with dread.  
  
"Oh, gods, did I hurt you, my precious girl?"   
  
"No!" She cried, raising her hands to his chest reassuringly. "You never inflicted true pain. I promise." He clasped her hand in relief and accepted her offered kiss of amends. "No...it is only that..." Her eyes fluttered demurely as she squeaked out shyly, "I missed your eyes on mine."  
  
His cold, blackened heart was overflowing with an emotion he had not felt for an age, if ever. It took him a few attempts to regain his voice.  
  
"Wendy, why did you give me this gift?"  
  
"Gift?"  
  
"The gift of your company, your thoughts, your body, and maidenhead."  
  
Wendy thought on the question, curling against him as he idly ran his fingers through her tresses. Unsure whether she was going to answer, Hook picked up a square of flannel and began to scrub her back Just when he was convinced she was not going to answer him, she did.  
  
"I feel as if we have been leading up to this moment for quite some time. I cannot explain why, only that I am not sorry in the least."

"A true pirate indeed," Hook growled possessively.  
  
"I am only sorry I will never know any more of what could have been," Wendy lamented with a pout.

“Now, now, girl, chin up. You never know what life holds in store for you. You may find another path back to Neverland.”  
  
She looked up at him and Hook knew precisely what she was going to ask as soon as their eyes met.  
  
"How did _you_ find your way here anyhow?"  
  
"Ah. Well," He picked her mug up again and pressed it into her hands. “Perhaps a story for another time; I grow ill of talking about my exploits.”  
  
“I rather thought pirates enjoyed hearing the sound of their own voices, regaling captive audiences with their adventures.”  
  
Hook smirked, enjoying her ever evolving cheek. She has a nerve, this lovely creature. Leaning down, James roughly kissed her mouth, tasting the richness of youth and the finest chocolate a pirate could steal. “You are most certainly anything but my captive.”  
  
She hummed pleasantly in agreement, nuzzling closer against his chest as she sipped the rest of her hot beverage pensively. He relished her closeness, and was affectionate in turn, dotting her face and head with the occasional kiss, gently washing her body but keeping her hair piled high and away from the water as he did not wish to exacerbate her chill. When the water lost all of its warmth, James hoisted Wendy to her feet and quickly wrapped her in a fleece before hauling her off back to his bed Taking the fleece from her once she was cozily underneath all of the coverings, he made quick work of drying himself before joining her.

“I was not intending to leave Neverland until tomorrow,” Wendy sighed as she rested her head in the crook of his arm. “Should I leave now and stop delaying the inevitable?”

He was surprised by the intensity of his desire for her to stay. “You are here already, you seem comfortable.” He looked down to her and waited for her silent confirmation. “I cannot imagine you wish to take flight in this bitter winter; why not stay here for the night at least and wait to see what tomorrow brings?”  
  
“Truly, I would not be a bother to you?” Wendy asked.

“No more than you already are a blithesome distraction. I am not impervious to the cold, either, and I enjoy the warmth you provide in my bed. You may as well stay put.”

She hugged him around his torso before lifting her head to kiss him sweetly. “Thank you, James.”  
  
It was not evening yet, but James felt the fatigue of the day wear on him most acutely. The fire in his stove had finally done its job, giving him and his little lover a reprieve from the harsh winter chill a haze with which to lull them into a doze.

“James?” Wendy asked sleepily.

“Yes, precious?” His eyes were closed and he found himself drifting.

“I find myself always the storyteller, and I am happy to rarely want for an audience.”  
  
“But?”

“I do like being told stories, too.”

He cracked an eye open and stared down at her. “Are you asking me to tell you a story, Wendy Darling?”  
  
“Yes, please!” Wendy tittered, smiling ever so coquettishly.

Hook sighs before launching in to it.  
  
“Once upon a time, since all ridiculous stories begin this way, there was a young man born into a rather complicated family. Like all families of good breeding, though, they sent their young man off to be educated at the finest schools in all of the King’s land. Despite being given a gentleman’s education and upbringing, the young lad found himself restless and unable to stomach the idea of a life of idle aristocracy. It may have been the path in his blood, but it was not the future of his heart. By day he remained the dutiful son, attending his courses in Latin, mathematics, and philosophy at Balliol, but by eve he was carousing with the dregs of society. The thieves taught him about lock-picking, the gamblers how to spy a cheat and mask his own hand, the whores how to interact with the fairer sex, but best of all, the pirates taught him about freedom. Against his family’s wishes, on the day he formally graduated from Oxford, he shed his school books for sails, following his heart out to sea. Having a knack for certain things already, and a rather authoritative air about him, the bright young lad was soon made boatswain and spent years learning from the most vile scallywags and knaves in all the seven seas.”  
  
“And he adored every minute of it,” Wendy added, lazily caressing his chest.

“That he did,” Hook agreed, squeezing her hand against his chest. "Some years later, the young man was only a year out as the captain of his own ship; young, incorrigible, and worst of all, pigheadedly fixated on unearthing a treasure beyond the wildest of imaginations. He began to overhear rumors from his contemporaries, spoken in hushed, reverent tones about a place that held the secret to life everlasting. What brash young man did not want this secret? More importantly, what idealistic pirate did not want to chase it down and hoard it for himself, and only share with a premium markup?"  
  
"You found Neverland by chasing after treasure?” Wendy asked, raising her head to quirk her brow at him.  
  
"Shush,” he said, pushing her head back down. “This is my story, remember? The bold young captain wanted more than baubles and gold, girl! He was Ponce de Leon chasing down the elusive fountain of youth.” James sighed theatrically as he gently hugged her close. “And what, my darling, sort of font did this brash young captain find when he finally set upon the enchanted shores, completely unawares he was walking into the silk web of the Moirai?”

“Peter,” Wendy mumbled. “You found Peter.”  
  
“Peter fucking Pan,” he groused. “A boy who could not share his wealth, for it was internal, sprung from stubbornness and the bond with an island that cannot be charted.” He shrugged. “Enraged and disappointed, the captain left.”  
  
“You left?” Wendy repeated, bewildered.  
  
“And he returned, some years later, when another opportunity presented itself. The end.”

“The end?” Wendy exclaimed incredulously. “Does it not end happily ever after?”  
  
“If you are going to criticize my storytelling capabilities, girl, you can bloody well tell them yourself.”  
  
Raising up once more, Wendy set a heavy gaze upon him. “But even you claimed that all stories end with a kiss.”

“Hm. So I did." He cups her face and guides her closer to him. "And so this story shall, too, end with a kiss.”

* * *

  
  
The sound of crowing echoing in the sky outside jolted both of them out of their slumber. Hook groaned, turning on his stomach in an attempt to ignore the sound. What he could not ignore, however, was the splintering sound of the ice beginning to break and crack. Lazily he wraps an arm around Wendy’s middle and holds her close.  
  
“Hold onto me, precious.”  
  
Wendy does so, confusion on her sleep kissed face until the ship begins to violently rock side to side.  
  
“What is happening, sir?” Wendy cries against his chest.  
  
“The ice is melting, the waves are free. Pan has returned.”  
  
“Oh,” was all Wendy could reply as the _Jolly Roger_ was slowly released from its icy prison. Did Hook’s ears deceive him, or did he detect disappointment in her voice? _I am thinking wishfully,_ James tells himself.  
  
"I ought to attempt to mend things with Peter," Wendy said, her voice void of emotions. She did not make a move to leave his bed, however, or even release him from her embrace. James could only press his nose into her tawny tresses, inhaling her scent mingled with his own.

"You must do what you deem necessary, treasure."  
  
Instead of making to leave his bed, however, Wendy rolled onto her back, her hazel eyes trained on him expectantly. Guessing what she may desire, James experimentally rolled on top of her, delighting that she ever so softly arched her back, slipping her hands under his arms to pull him down closer, confirming his guess with a heated kiss. Kissing his way down her cheeks, lips, neck and collarbone, James made sure to spend several minutes worshipping each area with his lips until his Wendy Darling was primed and ready, parting her thighs to prompt him to slide back into her. Heeding to her earlier criticism, Hook remained just elevated enough to hold her hazel eyes as he kept a methodical rhythm, sliding out of her snug wet sex and back inside with just enough ardor to satiate both of them. He felt her little hands on his back, one pressed against his shoulder blade, the other tugging steadfast on a leather strap, part of the harness to hold his hook in place. Her moans were soft and languid, not at all the urgent cries of wanton desperation from earlier, but equally mellifluous. Her breath was cool, with the scent of cacao lingering, causing his skin to prickle with delight. Up until this moment, James could never have been accused of bestowing Wendy with anything less than the utmost patience and attentiveness any proper gentleman would use to please a lady, especially a young virgin. It was just good form. Now, he felt the tides shift. _Am I giving her more of myself than I intended to?_ He knew the answer, but he was not about to admit it to himself.  
Sensing her closeness, James adjusted his weight to his right side, alleviating his left hand so he could slip it between their bodies and touch her just above their join, tending to the sweet morsel, the apex of her pleasure as he picked up his rhythm to match his attentions on her core. Her legs wrapped tightly around his hips as she inched closer, rutting against him from her position pinned between the bed and his body. There was no need for words as their locked eyes spoke volumes for the both of them, the sound of their heavy panting echoing within the red velvet draped enclave his canopied bed provided for them. His climax hit mere seconds before hers, halting in his propulsions and coming inside of her at the precise moment her own orgasm quaked through her petite body. Their bodies remained taut as his hips jutted rapidly against her, determined to spurt every last drop of his seed deep in her quivering sex. Loathe that he was to do it, Hook disengaged from her and rolled onto his back. She seemed to mourn the loss as she clamped against his broad chest, resting her head against his shoulder. The last rays of the sun made patterns against the wood of his cabin walls, reminding him of their all too little time left.

 _I should let her be,_ he thought to himself. _She should return home and never step foot on this damned island again. She will go to school, she will grow up, and she will find a nice young man to settle down with, a man who can give her a proper home, children, and all of the comforts of a predictable, stable life as opposed to a miserable, crippled, old sea dog who would occasionally bed her whenever she happened to visit a bewitched island._  
  
The choice was clear. The choice was easy. There was without a shadow of a doubt no questioning it.  
  
Wendy lifted her head up to look down at him, her hazel eyes glimmering with tears as she touched his face as tenderly as no one ever had before, not even a mother.

“I really shall miss you, James.”  
_  
Fuck._

_Fuck it._

_Fuck it all to fucking hell._

_Fuck convention. Fuck tradition. Fuck propriety._

He abruptly sits up and looks down at her, sternly asking, “Wendy, do you truly wish to attempt a life in the land of your birth and the only home you have ever known, and a life in Neverland? ‘Twould be a most precarious balancing act, one which you would have to know yourself better than ever before and be disciplined to intuit when to time your passages to the Neverlands safely without arousing suspicions.”

“Yes,” Wendy quietly affirms. “I do not know what my place is with Peter yet, but...even if he has replaced me, or the damage of our friendship is too deep to be repaired, I want to return.” She reached out to touch the blunt side of his hook. “I know now the answer to your earlier question; I have been contemplating it all day, even in my sleep. You asked why I gave you this gift, but I feel we are standing on mutual grounds. You gave me the gift of withholding expectation. At any point, I could have left and you would not have resented me for it. For the first time in my whole life, James, someone did not expect me to play a role for them. I was simply Wendy Darling.”

Wordlessly, James slips out of bed and pulls on his breeches before he goes to his desk and pulls out a key from a secret pocket drawer underneath the tabletop. Feeling her curious gaze upon his back, Hook pads over to a cabinet and unlocks one of its many compartments. Removing the lilac glass bottle from its safekeeping, James closes and locks the drawer before returning the key and going back to his bed where he presents Wendy with the bottle.

“What is this?” She asks, wiping away her tears before rising to her knees to pick up the delicate glass and inspect the tiny, refined and slightly glimmering contents within.

“Your freedom from Pan.”

“How do you mean?” Wendy asks, looking up from the perfume bottle to him.

“Your ability to journey to Neverland has always depended on Pan. His whims, his memory of you. You are growing older, and running the risk of losing Pan’s favor, as you have had a taste of this very day. The contents of that bottle is the means which you are able to snatch your destiny into your own hands. _You_ decide when you return. _You_ decide whom to visit. Pan, myself, hell, girl, go explore on your own. It is your life and now it is in _your_ hands.”

Wendy stared at the bottle, her pouting mouth agape.

“I...do not know what to say. Thank you, James. I am forever in your debt-”

“No,” he interrupted, perhaps a little too harshly; however, he had to make an impression on her; she has to understand this is a gift free of obligation, without the connotation of repayment. “You are never indebted to me. Do you understand, girl? You owe me nothing. What transpired between us these last few days is completely separate from this gesture.”

Her hand cups his face, worry for him in her eyes. “Of course, James. I am not sure I know your meaning.”

He takes hold of her hand and kisses her palm again, smiling softly to himself as he realizes that, despite all of the salacious acts they engaged in, she is still an innocent yet. “I forget how refreshing it is, your unfathomable sweetness.” Another kiss before gently removing her hand to place it atop the bottle in her other hand. “I shall rue the day you become as cynical as I am.”

* * *

  
He sat on the edge of the bed watching her dress, still unsure he had taken the right course of action. It is done, as is many things now irreversible between us. I have placed the power in Wendy’s hands; only she can determine where we go from here. As it should be.  
  
A gentle clearing of the throat altered the Captain that she was ready to take her leave. Walking her to the back of the cabin, Hook opened the windowed door out to his little veranda for two. She opened her arms as he bent down to embrace her. They kissed and kissed and kissed until they could no longer kiss. She floated up to perch herself on the railing, making her ever so slightly taller than he.  
  
“You will take care of yourself, won’t you, Captain Hook?”  
  
“I shall endeavor to do my best.”

“And mind your temper,” Wendy scolded. “Do not allow yourself to be flummoxed by a silly little boy.”  
  
Hook gave her a knowing look. “I shall endeavor to do my best.”  
  
“Then that is all there is left to be said.” She floats back, her toes leaving the rail as she hovers just out of reach from his grasp.  
  
“Pick up a book or two on the finer art of swordsmanship,” he suddenly commanded. “Your form needs work, and though I daresay that boarding school of yours would sooner offer fencing than Peter Pan would offer me a hand in truce, you can at the very least brush up on theory before our next lesson.”

“And you, Captain James Hook, shall practice your storytelling,” Wendy called sassily. “Upon my return, I shall expect to be utterly spellbound by harrowing tales of adventure and danger featuring your mysterious young sea captain on this enchanted island.”  
  
“Him?” Hook scoffed, leaning his elbow on the railing. “He is such a bore! Well, then again, I heard things are starting to look up for him. It seems he has finally got something most intriguing going for himself these days, a sort of companion going by the name of Red-Handed Jill.”

Wendy raised her eyebrows before smirking at him. “Then I shall look forward to their shared adventures.” Clutching the lilac perfume bottle to her chest, Wendy flew up and off into the dusky violet twilight. James watched her beeline for the island, silhouetted against a rapidly darkening sky.  
  
“As do I, my Darling Wendy, as do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being super long out of pure necessity WHEW but I am not going to make it a habit! So, even though this is the end of "Your Precious Thimble" this is by far and wide not the end of the overall series, "Entranced." The next sequential installment will pick up very shortly after where this one leaves off and follow Wendy. I may even switch things up and leave this timeline a bit to focus on the sequel to "The Frisky Plank" - depending on my mood and what gets finished first. Feel free to chat me up at geek-girl-extraordinaire.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you enjoyed 'The Frisky Plank' this is the origin story between these two. I alluded to it in the Firsky Plank and with the encouragement of RisqueSno, I decided to write it out properly and establish when this craziness all began. Thanks Sno-chan for reading and diving into the deep end of headcanon with me! So, now this, along with the other fic, is officially part of a larger series I hope to gradually add to over time. This fic features a younger teen Wendy, so if that is not your jam, slide into The Frisky Plank (she is 17 there) and hang out while I write more adventures featuring the older Wendy. Thanks, everyone!


End file.
